He settled again, and smiled. "It's okay. I'll stay until you wake up. I could use a nap myself."
He'd had to get up fairly early in the morning to get there when visiting hours first started.
A part of him wondered when he'd gone insane. Why was he doing all this?
Possibly a question for another time.
He wished T.S. Eliot would leave him alone. The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock was not exactly the poetry he thought most appropriate for the situation.