安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第29部分

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ous　of　the　other　girls。　this　morning　i　realized　that　nothing　has　changed；

on　the　contrary；　as　ive　grown　older　and　more　mature；　my　love　has　grown　along　with　me。　i　can　understand　now　that　peter　thought　i　was　childish；　and　yet　it　still　hurts　to　think　hed　forgotten　me　pletely。　i　saw　his　face　so　clearly；　i　knew　for　certain　that　no　one　but　peter　could　have　stuck　in　my　mind　that　way。

ive　been　in　an　utter　state　of　confusion　today。　when　father　kissed　me　this　morning；　i　wanted　to　shout；　〃oh；　if　only　you　were　peter！〃　ive　been　thinking　of　him　constantly；　and　all　day　long　ive　been　repeating　to　myself；　〃oh；　petel；　my　darling；　darling　petel　。　。

。鈥�

where　can　i　find　help？　i　simply　have　to　go　on　living　and　praying　to　god　that；　if　we　ever　get　out　of　here；　peters　path　will　cross　mine　and　hell　gaze　into　my　eyes；　read　the　love　in　them　and　say；　〃oh；　anne；　if　id　only　known；　id　have　e　to　you　long　ago。鈥�

once　when　father　and　i　were　talking　about　sex；　he　said　i　was　too　young　to　understand　that　kind　of　desire。　but　i　thought　i　did　understand　it；　and　now　im　sure　i　do。　nothing　is　as　dear　to　me　now　as　my　darling　petel！

i　saw　my　face　in　the　mirror；　and　it　looked　so　different。　my　eyes　were　clear　and　deep；　my　cheeks　were　rosy；　which　they　hadnt　been　in　weeks；　my　mouth　was　much　softer。　i　looked　happy；　and　yet　there　was　something　so　sad　in　my　expression　that　the　smile　immediately　faded　from　my　lips。　im　not　happy；　since　i　know　petels　not　thinking　of　me；　and　yet　i　can　still　feel　his　beautiful　eyes　gazing　at　me　and　his　cool；　soft　cheek　against　mine。　。　。　oh；　petel；　petel；　how　am　i　ever　going　to　free　myself　from　your　image？　wouldnt　anyone　who　took　your　place　be　a　poor　substitute？　i　love　you；　with　a　love　so　great　that　it　simply　couldnt　keep　growing　inside　my　heart；　but　had　to　leap　out　and　reveal　itself　in　all　its　magnitude。

a　week　ago；　even　a　day　ago；　if　youd　asked　me；　〃which　of　your　friends　do　you　think　youd　be　most　likely　to　marry？〃　id　have　answered；　〃sally；　since　he　makes　me　feel

good；　peaceful　and　safe！〃　but　now　id　cry；　〃petel；　because　i　love　him　with　all　my　heart　and　all　my　soul。　i　surrender　myself　pletely！〃　except　for　that　one　thing：　he　may　touch　my　face；　but　thats　as　far　as　it　goes。

this　morning　i　imagined　i　was　in　the　front　attic　with　petel；　sitting　on　the　floor　by　the　windows；　and　after　talking　for　a　while；　we　both　began　to　cry。　moments　later　i　felt　his　mouth　and　his　wonderful　cheek！　oh；　petel；　e　to　me。　think　of　me；　my　dearest　petel！

wednesday；　january　12；　1944

dearest　kitty；

beps　been　back　for　the　last　two　weeks；　though　her　sister　wont　be　allowed　back　at　school　until　next　week。　bep　herself　spent　two　days　in　bed　with　a　bad　cold。　miep　and　jan　were　also　out　for　two　days；　with　upset　stomachs。

im　currently　going　through　a　dance　and　ballet　craze　and　am　diligently　practicing　my　dance　steps　every　evening。　ive　made　an　ultramodern　dance　costume　out　of　a　lacy　lavender　slip　belonging　to　momsy。　bias　tape　is　threaded　through　the　top　and　tied　just　above　the　bust。　a　pink　corded　ribbon　pletes　the　ensemble。　i　tried　to　turn　my　tennis　shoes　into　ballet　slippers；　but　with　no　success。　my　stiff　limbs　are　well　on　the　way　to　being　as　limber　as　they　used　to　be。　a　terrific　exercise　is　to　sit　on　the　floor；　place　a　heel　in　each　hand　and　raise　both　legs　in　the　air。　i　have　to　sit　on　a　cushion；　because　otherwise　my　poor　backside　really　takes　a　beating。

everyone　here　is　reading　a　book　called　a　cloudless　morning。　mother　thought　it　was　extremely　good　because　it　describes　a　number　of　adolescent　problems。　i　thought　to　myself；　a　bit　ironically；　〃why　dont　you　take　more　interest　in　your　own　adolescents　first！鈥�

i　think　mother　believes　that　margot　and　i　have　a　better　relationship　with　our　parents　than　anyone　in　the　whole　wide　world；　and　that　no　mother　is　more　involved　in　the　lives　of　her　children　than　she　is。　she　must　have　my　sister　in　mind；　since　i　dont　believe　margot　has　the　same　problems　and　thoughts　as　i　do。　far　be　it　from　me　to　point　out　to　mother　that　one　of　her　daughters　is　not　at　all　what　she　imagines。　shed　be　pletely　bewildered；　and　anyway；　shed　never　be　able　to　change；　id　like　to　spare　her　that　grief；　especially　since　i　know　that　everything　would　remain　the　same。　mother　does　sense　that　margot　loves　her　much　more　than　i　do；　but　she　thinks　im　just　going　through　a　phase。

margots　gotten　much　nicer。　she　seems　a　lot　different　than　she　used　to　be。　shes　not　nearly　as　catty　these　days　and　is　being　a　real　friend。　she　no　longer　thinks　of　me　as　a　litde　kid　who　doesnt　count。

its　funny；　but　i　can　sometimes　see　myself　as　others　see　me。　i　take　a　leisurely　look　at　the　person　called　〃anne　frank〃　and　browse　through　the　pages　of　her　life　as　though　she　were　a　stranger。

before　i　came　here；　when　i　didnt　think　about　things　as　much　as　i　do　now；　i　occasionally　had　the　feeling　that　i　didnt　belong　to　momsy；　pim　and　margot　and　that　i　would　always　be　an　outsider。　i　sometimes　went　around　for　six　months　at　a　time　pretending　i　was　an　orphan。　then　id　chastise　myself　for　playing　the　victim；　when　really；　id　always　been　so　fortunate。　after　that　id　force　myself　to　be　friendly　for　a　while。　every　morning　when　i　heard　footsteps　on　the　stairs；　i　hoped　it　would　be　mother　ing　to　say　good　morning。　id　greet　her　warmly；　because　i　honesly　did　look　forward　to　her　affectionate　glance。　but　then　shed　snap　at　me　for　having　made　some　ment　or　other　（and　id　go　off　to　school　feeling　pletely　discouraged。

on　the　way　home　id　make　excuses　for　her；　telling　myself　that　she　had　so　many　worries。　id　arrive　home　in　high　spirits；　chatting　nineteen　to　the　dozen；　until　the　events　of　the　morning　would　repeat　themselves　and　id　leave　the　room　with　my　schoolbag　in　my　hand　and　a　pensive　look　on　my　face。　sometimes　id　decide　to　stay　angry；　but　then　i　always　had　so　much　to　talk　about　after　school　that　id　forget　my　resolution　and　want　mother　to　stop　whatever　she　was　doing　and　lend　a　willing　ear。　then　the　time　would　e　once　more　when　i　no　longer　listened　for　the　steps　on　the　stairs　and　felt　lonely　and　cried　into　my　pillow　every　night。

everything　has　gotten　much　worse　here。　but　you　already　knew　that。　now　god　has　sent　someone　to　help　me：　peter。　i　fondle　my　pendant；　press　it　to　my　lips　and　think；　〃what　do　i　care！　petel　is　mine　and　nobody　knows　it！〃　with　this　in　mind；　i　can　rise　above　every　nasty　remark。　which　of　the　people　here　would　suspect　that　so　much　is　going　on　in　the　mind　of　a　teenage　girl？

saturday；　january　15；　1944

my　dearest　kitty；

theres　no　reason　for　me　to　go　on　describing　all　our　quarrels　and　arguments　down　to　the　last　detail。　its　enough　to　tell　you　that　weve　divided　many　things　like　meat　and　fats　and　oils　and　are　frying　our　own　potatoes。　recently　weve　been　eating　a　little　extra　rye　bread　because　by　four　oclock　were　so　hungry　for　dinner　we　can　barely

control　our　rumbling　stomachs。

mothers　birthday　is　rapidly　approaching。　she　received　some　extra　sugar　from　mr。

kugler；　which　sparked　off　jealousy　on　the　part　of　the　van　daans；　because　mrs。　van　d。

didnt　receive　any　on　her　birthday。　but　whats　the　point　of　boring　you　with　harsh　words；　spiteful　conversations　and　tears　when　you　know　they　bore　us　even　more？

mother　has　expressed　a　wish；　which　isnt　likely　to　e　true　any　time　soon：　not　to　have　to　see　mr。　van　daans　face　for　two　whole　weeks。　i　wonder　if　everyone　who　shares　a　house　sooner　or　later　ends　up　at　odds　with　their　fellow　residents。　or　have　we　just　had　a　stroke　of　bad　luck？　at　mealtime；　when　dussel　helps　himself　to　a　quarter　of　the　half…filled　gravy　boat　and　leaves　the　rest　of　us　to　do　without；　i　lose　my　appetite　and　feel　like　jumping　to　my　feet；　knocking　him　off　his　chair　and　throwing　him　out　the　door。

are　most　people　so　stingy　and　selfish？　ive　gained　some　insight　into　human　nature　since　i　came　here；　which　is　good；　but　ive　had　enough　for　the　present。　peter　says　the　same。

the　war　is　going　to　go　on　despite　our　quarrels　and　our　longing　for　freedom　and　fresh　air；　so　we　should　try　to　make　the　best　of　our　stay　here。

im　preaching；　but　i　also　believe　that　if　i　live　here　much　longer；　ill　turn　into　a　dried…up　old　beanstalk。　and　all　i　really　want　is　to　be　an　honest…to…goodness　teenager！

yours；　anne　

wednesday　evening；　january　19；　1944

dearest　kitty；

i　（there　i　go　again！）　dont　know　whats　happened；　but　since　my　dream　i　keep　noticing　how　ive　changed。　by　the　way；　i　dreamed　about　peter　again　last　night　and　once　again　i　felt　his　eyes　penetrate　mine；　but　this　dream　was　less　vivid　and　not　quite　as　beautiful　as　the　last。

you　know　that　i　always　used　to　be　jealous　of　margots　relationship　with　father。

theres　not　a　trace　of　my　jealousy　left　now；　i　still　feel　hurt　when　fathers　nerves　cause　him　to　be　unreasonable　toward　me；　but　then　i　think；　〃i　cant　blame　you　for　being　the　way　you　are。　you　talk　so　much　about　the　minds　of　children　and　adolescents；

but　you　dont　know　the　first　thing　about　them！〃　i　long　for　more　than　fathers　affection；　more　than　his　hugs　and　kisses。　isnt　it　awful　of　me　to　be　so　preoccupied　with　myself？　shouldnt　i；　who　want　to　be　good　and　kind；　forgive　them　first？　i　forgive　mother　too；　but　every　time　she　makes　a　sarcastic　remark　or　laughs　at　me；　its　all　i　can　do　to　control　myself。

i　know　im　far　from　being　what　i　should；　will　i　ever　be？

anne　frank

p。s。　father　asked　if　i　told　you　about　the　cake。　for　mothers　birthday；　she　received　a　real　mocha　cake；　prewar　quality；　from　the　office。　it　was　a　really　nice　day！　but　at　the　moment　theres　no　room　in　my　head　for　things　like　that。

saturday；　january　22；　1944

dearest　kitty；

can　you　tell　me　why　people　go　to　such　lengths　to　hide　their　real　selves？　or　why　i　always　behave　very　differently　when　im　in　the　pany　of　others？　why　do　people　have　so　little　trust　in　one　another？　i　know　there　must　be　a　reason；　but　sometimes　i　think　its　horrible　that　you　cant　ever　confide　in　anyone；　not　even　those　closest　to　you。

it　seems　as　if　ive　grown　up　since　the　night　i　had　that　dream；　as　if　ive　bee　more　independent。　youll　be　amazed　when　i　tell　you　that　even　my　attitude　toward　the　van　daans　has　changed。　ive　stopped　looking　at　all　the　discussions　and　arguments　from　my　familys　biased　point　of　view。　whats　brought　on　such　a　radical　change？　well；　you　see；　i　suddenly　realized　that　if　mother　had　been　different；　if　shed　been　a　real　mom；　our　relationship　would