I want to be like Edna from The Awakening,

Although I never took the time to read the book, I mean, it was written in old English with french and creole or something, and I personally thought it was incredibly boring, I do remember the ending. *SPOILER ALERT* Edna, the main character, ends the novel by walking into the ocean, until she can no longer touch the bottom,continuing until she disappears under the waves.The book clearly gives the reader the thought that Edna has killed herself, can't remember why, but that she took her life into her own hands by deciding to drown herself in the most beautiful place.
I still remember the description of the last pages, of the ocean. I went to the ocean this weekend, in Penco, Concepcion. Arriving in Conce, I didn't understand why someone would live here when Santiago was only six hours away. But as we took the bus which takes you straight to the different beaches, I realized how it could be hard to leave. The sun went down, beneath the pier, and its rays carved a bright light through the blue. As we ate ice cream, I counted the palm trees, eight, and counted the minutes until I could dig my feet into the sand. Taking off my shoes, I was amazed at the number of shells that had washed up on the shore, I felt like Sally sells seashells by the seashore *say five times fast*. I rolled up my leggings, it was too late to get all the way in. But step by step, I felt the ocean tugging me deeper, and my leggings were getting wet with the building waves. I wanted the ocean to swallow me whole, take me all the way down to the bottom, to see what the heck is down there anyways. But I fought back, and I walked along the shore, finding the perfect shells to take home with me. After I drew your name in the sand, I realized that the shells were home, and I couldn't take them all back with me, even if it was only six hours away. Diego and I took turns throwing them back into the sea, back to Concepcion. Not all of them, some did get to come along with us like souvenirs. I knew it was getting late, and I had to get out of the water. But I never want to get out of the water. I never want to go back home. I tell him about Edna as I drag my feet out of the water. He puts my shoes on. Eight palm trees. I forget about sea suicides, and I remember the palm trees.
I don't think I want to be like Edna anymore.