I thought I was dead. I clearly remembered the content of the suicide note and the preparations I made before my death. My body was even next to me. It turned out that just cutting my veins would cause so much blood to flow, and the bathroom was red with blood. I should be dead, but who can tell me why I am still standing (floating to be precise) here?
Why did you only say that you love me and that you can't live without me at this time? This love is late, we can't go back, I am already dead...