“Hey, what are you doing here?” they think. “Go to the end of the line; real patients have priority!” Yours, Anne
THURSDAY, MARCH 16, 1944
Dearest Kitty, The weather is gorgeous, indescribably beautiful; I'll be going up to the attic in a moment.
I now know why I'm so much more restless than Peter. He has his own room, where he can work, dream, think and sleep.
I'm constantly being chased from one corner to another. I'm never alone in the room I share with Dussel, though I long to be so much.
That's another reason I take refuge in the attic. When I'm there, or with you, I can be myself, at least for a little while.
Still, I don't want to moan and groan. On the contrary, I want to be brave!
Thank goodness the others notice nothing of my innermost feelings, except that every day I'm growing cooler and more contemptuous of Mother,
less affectionate to Father and less willing to share a single thought with Margot; I'm closed up tighter than a drum.
Above all, I have to maintain my air of confidence. No one must know that my heart and mind are constantly at war with each other.
Up to now reason has always won the battle, but will my emotions get the upper hand?
Sometimes I fear they will, but more often I actually hope they do!
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