Standing at the back of a funeral

"I walked into a room full of folding chairs, everyone already seated, dark clothes everywhere, and I stood near the back not sure where I belonged in the arrangement, some low anxious feeling under the sadness just about where to put myself. Nobody waved me over. I knew it was a funeral, that dream-certainty, but the details stayed fuzzy, who, why, didn't fully land. The people around me were crying quiet, dabbing at eyes, and I felt the sadness too, pressing in, even without fully grasping the specifics. Someone up front was talking, voice carrying but words blurring together, nothing sticking. I kept meaning to walk closer, see the casket, pay respects properly, but my feet stayed planted at the back the whole time. The room dimmed slightly as it went on, chairs seeming to multiply, more people filling in around me without me noticing them arrive. I never made it closer. I just stood there with that heavy feeling, until I woke up still carrying some of that weight."