Oh, Petel, Petel, how am I ever going to free myself from your image?
Wouldn't anyone who took your place be a poor substitute?
I love you, with a love so great that it simply couldn't 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 you'd asked me, “Which of your friends do you think you'd be most likely to marry?”
I'd have answered, “Sally, since he makes me feel good, peaceful and safe!”
But now I'd cry, “Petel, because I love him with all my heart and all my soul. I surrender myself completely!”
Except for that one thing: he may touch my face, but that's 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, come to me. Think of me, my dearest Petel!
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 12, 1944
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