I had been out drinking and even dancing and had got home a little after 4. It must have been about 4.30 when I turned on my bedside light and scribbled this into my notebook:
Gretchen hanged herself on Thursday. She didn’t do it necessarily because she was unhappy. Maybe she simply didn’t want to live anymore. Those two things probably go together often, but they don’t have to. I am sure they can happen quite independently of each other.
I didn’t know Gretchen.