I fell into this trap. In fact for some time after the end of my marriage I held fast to this belief, and saw no real reason to challenge it: I was unable to save anything. Even had I wanted to keep my marriage alive I doubt I could have succeeded. The fact was, since I could no longer face Agnes after what happened, I thought it best to end the marriage as quickly as possible. She despised me for this and I suppose I despised myself, which is of course a feature of depression. I remember telling her that she’d be better off without me, better able to get on with her life. The inadequacy of this as justification for leaving her was made very clear to me. I tried to explain how corrosive it would be, her conviction of my responsibility for Danny’s death. “Then change my conviction,” she said. We were all in shock, me most of all. I’d been the first one into the apartment. I’d seen what that gunshot had done to his head, and I couldn’t forget it. At least I had the distraction of the funeral arrangements and of contacting the men in the group.
