I can imagine, as if I were in his place, how despondent he must sometimes feel at the quarrels.
And about love. Poor Peter, he needs to be loved so much! It sounded so cold when he said he didn't need any friends.
Oh, he's so wrong! I don't think he means it. He clings to his masculinity, his solitude and his feigned indifference
so he can maintain his role, so he'll never, ever have to show his feelings.
Poor Peter, how long can he keep it up? Won't he explode from this superhuman effort?
Oh, Peter, if only I could help you, if only you would let me! Together we could banish our loneliness, yours and mine!
I've been doing a great deal of thinking, but not saying much. I'm happy when I see him, and happier still if the sun shines when we're together.
I washed my hair yesterday, and because I knew he was next door, I was very rambunctious.
I couldn't help it; the more quiet and serious I am on the inside, the noisier I get on the outside!
Who will be the first to discover the chink in my armor? It's just as well that the van Daans don't have a daughter.
My conquest could never be so challenging, so beautiful and so nice with someone of the same sex! Yours, Anne M. Frank
P.S. You know I'm always honest with you, so I think I should tell you that I live from one encounter to the next.
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