Abschied || suicide translated

part 3

It's Monday again and I'm just lying on my bed. What was that feeling that was spreading through me since her funeral? Was it fear? No, I don't feel that way when I'm anxious, more of a certainty that doesn't bode well. It was her courage that led me to the cemetery that day. Courage I didn't have. Or was it courage I didn't want? These questions have been tormenting me since I hadn't left my room for days, but who cares, it's not as if anyone is interested. Over the years I had gotten used to being alone. I wasn't sad about not having friends either, it had become a habit. As I continue to let my thoughts circle, I can't get an image out of my head. It's constantly before my eyes. In this daydream it's me lying in a coffin - I look pretty. Over time, the picture changes and this is how I actually experience my death for the rest of the afternoon. At dinner I felt like I'd stepped away, but because I'm alone it doesn't matter. What was that just a thought I had there? No doubt it wasn't the first time I've had him, but today was different. How come I couldn't shake the feeling the world would be better off without me, that life or death made no difference. There was never anyone there who was interested in me anyway and nobody else would probably miss me either. I went to bed with these thoughts, but was still a long way from falling asleep. Why did I care so much? It was just a death of a distantly known person, nothing special. And yet something was different. That night I dreamed of my death several times and otherwise my thoughts were always just wrapped around one event: suicide!