zumindest red ich mir das ein

Sometimes a person leaves, and with them goes the lightness, confidence, and the habit of seeing someone special in the mirror. Silence, anger, and attempts to convince yourself it doesn't hurt remain. That's how you live: with clever excuses, with carefully stitched-up pride, repeating "everything's fine" like a mantra to soothe old scars. In that sound, it's like an echo of an empty apartment, where foreign perfume and unresolved issues still linger. It's sad, but honest. With bitterness, but without hysteria. When resentment was tired of shouting and just sat on the windowsill, lit a cigarette, and said, "Well, at least it's clear now who the problem was."