I do have, from time to time, and overwhelming feeling of dread. This usually happens just before I get to sleep or if I wake up in the night. I do and don’t know why.

But it always comes back to V and what has happened and whether anything was really real or not and, therefore, whether anything can be real in the future – with or without V.

V is due to move out in the next few days. This is good and bad in that, finally, there will be some sort of closure, which I certainly need. It’s bad in that, from that point, we shall drift apart, as yachts on a still lake, without means of steering, or, maybe, race away from each other as if down different ravines; the threads that once held us together becoming more stretched and thinner until, finally, they snap or melt to nothing.

And my thoughts turn to ‘home’ and what it is and what it really means. And to why we are here and why we even have to struggle through life – to what end? Does it all really serve any purpose?

For if there is no ‘life after death’, other than the memories of others and if, like me, one remains childless without anyone to need to remember me, then there really is no point.

And, therefore, people believe in ‘life after death’ because it fulfils their need for a point.

But, tell, me, if we have that wrong, then why?