I could smack her, punch her in the face, but then I see what she can't hide from me. I've seen it before-the desperation, the agony, the need to find a reason to go on, and the inability to find it.

Why do people kill themselves?

I think they do it when they can no longer find a reason to keep going. When nothing in heir lives is good enough to balance out the bad. And they do it when they no longer have the courage to carry on past some recent painful experience. They commit what is, in the end, a desperate, final call for help, that is hopefully heard in time by someone else.

And what if it's not heard in time? I ask although I know the answer.

Then they die.

It's the one activity that gives me some hope that the human race won't commit suicide, though I still wouldn't count on it.

A lot of people committed suicide when they saw there is no hope.

My greatest friend is truth.

Linda Tripp has shown that a true friend is an archivist, a biographer.