安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第26章

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it　gave　me　a　wonderful　feeling　when　i　looked　into　his　dark　blue　eyes　and　saw　how　bashful　my　unexpected　visit　had　made　him。　i　could　read　his　innermost　thoughts；　and　in　his　face　i　saw　a　look　of　helplessness　and　uncertainty　as　to　how　to　behave；　and　at　the　same　time　a　flicker　of　awareness　of　his　masculinity。　i　saw　his　shyness；　and　i　melted。

i　wanted　to　say；　〃tell　me　about　yourself。　look　beneath　my　chatty　exterior。〃　but　i　found　that　it　was　easier　to　think　up　questions　than　to　ask　them。

the　evening　came　to　a　close；　and　nothing　happened；　except　that　i　told　him　about　the　article　on　blushing。　not　what　i　wrote　you；　of　course；　just　that　he　would　grow　more　secure　as　he　got　older。　鈥�

that　night　i　lay　in　bed　and　cried　my　eyes　out；　all　the　i　while　making　sure　no　one　could　hear　me。　the　idea　that　i　had　to　beg　peter　for　favors　was　simply　revolting。　but　people　will　do　almost　anything　to　satisfy　their　longings；　take　me；　for　example；　ive　made　up　my　mind　to　visit　peter　more　often　and；　somehow；　get　him　to　talk　to　me。

you　mustnt　think　im　in　love　with　peter；　because　im　not。　if　the　van　daans　had　had　a　daughter　instead　of　a　son；　id　have　tried　to　make　friends　with　her。

this　morning　i　woke　up　just　before　seven　and　immediately　remembered　what　id　been　dreaming　about。　i　was　sitting　on　a　chair　and　across　from　me　was　peter。　。　。　peter　schiff。　we　were　looking　at　a　book　of　drawings　by　mary　bos。　the　dream　was　so　vivid　i　can　even　remember　some　of　the　drawings。　but　that　wasnt　all　　the　dream　went　on。　peters　eyes　suddenly　met　mine；　and　i　stared　for　a　long　time　into　those　velvety　brown　eyes。　then　he　said　very　softly；　〃if　id　only　known；　id　have　e　to　you　long　ago！〃　i　turned　abruptly　away；　overe　by　emotion。　and　then　i　felt　a　soft；　oh…so…cool　and　gentle　cheek　against　mine；　and　it　felt　so　good；　so　good　。　。　。

at　that　point　i　woke　up；　still　feeling　his　cheek　against　mine　and　his　brown　eyes　staring　deep　into　my　heart；　so　deep　that　he　could　read　how　much　id　loved　him　and　how　much　i　still　do。　again　my　eyes　filled　with　tears；　and　i　was　sad　because　id　lost　him　once　more；　and　yet　at　the　same　time　glad　because　i　knew　with　certainty　that　peter　is　still　the　only　one　for　me。　

its　funny；　but　i　often　have　such　vivid　images　in　my　dreams。　one　night　i　saw　grammy*　＇*grammy　is　annes　grandmother　on　her　fathers　side；　and　grandma　her　grandmother　on　her　mothers　side。＇　so　clearly　that　i　could　even　make　out　her　skin　of　soft；　crinkly　velvet。　another　time　grandma　appeared　to　me　as　a　guardian　angel。　after　that　it　was　hanneli；　who　still　symbolizes　to　me　the　suffering　of　my　friends　as　well　as　that　of　jews　in　general；　so　that　when　im　praying　for　her；　im　also　praying　for　all　the　jews　and　all　those　in　need。

and　now　peter；　my　dearest　peter。　ive　never　had　such　a　clear　mental　image　of　him。　i　dont　need　a　photograph；　i　can　see　him　oh　so　well。

yours；　anne　

friday；　＇anuary　7；　1944

dearest　kitty；

im　such　an　idiot。　i　forgot　that　i　havent　yet　told　you　the　story　of　my　one　true　love。

when　i　was　a　little　girl；　way　back　in　kindergarten；　i　took　a　liking　to　sally　kimmel。

his　father　was　gone；　and　he　and　his　mother　lived　with　an　aunt。　one　of　sallys　cousins　was　a　good…looking；　slender；　dark…haired　boy　named　appy；　who　later　turned　out　to　look　like　a　movie　idol　and　aroused　more　admiration　than　the　short；　ical；　chubby　sally。　for　a　long　time　we　went　everywhere　together；　but　aside　from　that；　my　love　was　unrequited　until　peter　crossed　my　path。　i　had　an　out…and…out　crush　on　him。　he　liked　me　too；　and　we　were　inseparable　for　one　whole　summer。　i　can　still　see　us　walking　hand　in　hand　through　our　neighborhood；　peter　in　a　white　cotton　suit　and　me　in　a　short　summer　dress。　at　the　end　of　the　summer　vacation　he　went　to　the　seventh　grade　at　the　middle　school；　while　i　was　in　the　sixth　grade　at　the　grammar　school。　hed　pick　me　up　on　the　way　home；　or　id　pick　him　up。　peter　was　the　ideal　boy：　tall；　good…looking　and　slender；　with　a　serious；　quiet　and　intelligent　face。　he　had　dark　hair；　beautiful　brown　eyes；　ruddy　cheeks　and　a　nicely　pointed　nose。　i　was　crazy　about　his　smile；　which　made　him　look　so　boyish　and　mischievous。

id　gone　away　to　the　countryside　during　summer　vacation；　and　when　i　came　back；　peter　was　no　longer　at　his　old　address；　hed　moved　and　was　living　with　a　much　older　boy；　who　apparently　told　him　i　was　just　a　kid；　because　peter　stopped　seeing　me。　i　loved　him　so　much　that　i　didnt　want　to　face　the　truth。　i　kept　clinging　to　him　until　the　day　i　finally　realized　that　if　i　continued　to　chase　after　him；　people　would　say　i　was　boy…crazy。

the　years　went　by。　peter　hung　around　with　girls　his　own　age　and　no　longer　bothered　to　say　hello　to　me。　i　started　school　at　the　jewish　lyceum；　and　several　boys　in　my　class　were　in　love　with　me。　i　enjoyed　it　and　felt　honored　by　their　attentions；　but　that　was　all。　later　on；　hello　had　a　terrible　crush　on　me；　but　as　ive　already　told　you；　i　never　fell　in　love　again。

theres　a　saying：　〃time　heals　all　wounds。〃　thats　how　it　was　with　me。　i　told　myself　id　forgotten　peter　and　no　longer　liked　him　in　the　least。　but　my　memories　of　him　were　so　strong　that　i　had　to　admit　to　myself　that　the　only　reason　i　no　longer　liked　him　was　that　i　was　jealous　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：　pete