THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEFINITIVE EDITION ... - Fidele

P.S. Thoughts: To Peter.
We've been missing out on so much here, so very much, and for such a long time. I
miss it just as much as you do. I'm not talking about external things, since we're
well provided for in that sense; I mean the internal things. Like you, I long for
freedom and fresh air, but I think we've been amply compensated for their loss. On
the inside, I mean.
This morning, when I was sitting in front of the window and taking a long, deep
look outside at God and nature, I was happy, just plain happy. Peter, as long as
people feel that kind of happiness within themselves, the joy of nature, health
and much more besides, they'll always be able to recapture that happiness.
Riches, prestige, everything can be lost. But the happiness in your own heart can
only be dimmed; it will always be there, as long as you live, to make you happy
again.
Whenever you're feeling lonely or sad, try going to the loft on a beautiful day
and looking outside. Not at the houses and the rooftops, but at the sky. As long
as you can look fearlessly at the sky, you'll know that you're pure within and
will find happiness once more.
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1944
My dearest Kitty,
From early in the morning to late at night, all I do is think about Peter. I fall
asleep with his image before my eyes, dream about him and wake up with him still
looking at me.
I have the strong feeling that Peter and I aren't really as different as we may
seem on the surface, and I'll explain why: neither Peter nor I have a mother. His
is too superficial, likes to flirt and doesn't concern herself much with what goes
on in his head. Mine takes an active interest in my life, but has no tact,
sensitivity or motherly understanding.
Both Peter and I are struggling with our innermost feelings. We're still unsure of
ourselves and are too vulnerable, emotionally, to be dealt with so roughly.
Whenever that happens, I want to run outside or hide my feelings. Instead, I bang
the pots and pans, splash the water and am generally noisy, so that everyone
wishes I were miles away. Peter's reaction is to shut himself up, say little, sit
quietly and daydream, all the while carefully hiding his true self.
But how and when will we finally reach each other?
I don't know how much longer I can continue to keep this yearning under control.
Yours, Anne M. Frank
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1944
My dearest Kitty,
It's like a nightmare, one that goes on long after I'm awake. I see him nearly
every hour of the day and yet I can't be with him, I can't let the others notice,
and I have to pretend to be cheerful, though my heart is aching.
Peter Schiff and Peter van Daan have melted into one Peter, who's good and kind