《安妮日记》第60章

nts　and　about　himself；　but　its　not　enough；　and　every　five　minutes　i　wonder　why　i　find　myself　longing　for　more。　he　used　to　think　i　was　a　real　pain　in　the　neck；　and　the　feeling　was　mutual。　ive　changed　my　mind；　but　how　do　i　know　hes　changed　his？　i　think　he　has；　but　that　doesnt　necessarily　mean　we　have　to　bee　the　best　of　friends；　although　as　far　as　im　concerned；　it　would　make　our　time　here　more　bearable。　but　i　wont　let　this　drive　me　crazy。　i　spend　enough　time　thinking　about　him　and　dont　have　to　get　you　all　worked　up　as　well；　simply　because　im　so　miserable！
sunday；　march　12；　1944
dearest　kitty；
things　are　getting　crazier　here　as　the　days　go　by。
peter　hasnt　looked　at　me　since　yesterday。　hes　been　acting　as　if　hes　mad　at　me。　im　doing　my　best　not　to　chase　after　him　and　to　talk　to　him　as　little　as　possible；　but　its
not　easy！　whats　going　on；　what　makes　him　keep　me　at　arms　length　one　minute　and　rush　back　to　my　side　the　next？　perhaps　im　imagining　that　its　worse　than　it　really　is。
perhaps　hes　just　moody　like　me；　and　tomorrow　everything　will　be　all　right　again！
i　have　the　hardest　time　trying　to　maintain　a　normal　facade　when　im　feeling　so　wretched　and　sad。　i　have　to　talk；　help　around　the　house；　sit　with　the　others　and；　above　all；　act　cheerful！　most　of　all　i　miss　the　outdoors　and　having　a　place　where　i　can　be　alone　for　as　long　as　i　want！　i　think　im　getting　everything　all　mixed　up；　kitty；　but　then；　im　in　a　state　of　utter　confusion：　on　the　one　hand；　im　half　crazy　with　desire　for　him；　can　hardly　be　in　the　same　room　without　looking　at　him；　and　on　the　other　hand；　i　wonder　why　he　should　matter　to　me　so　much　and　why　i　cant　be　calm　again！
day　and　night；　during　every　waking　hour；　i　do　nothing　but　ask　myself；　〃have　you　given　him　enough　chance　to　be　alone？　have　you　been　spending　too　much　time　upstairs？　do　you　talk　too　much　about　serious　subjects　hes　not　yet　ready　to　talk　about？　maybe　he　doesnt　even　like　you？　has　it　all　been　your　imagination？　but　then　why　has　he　told　you　so　much　about　himself？　is　he　sorry　he　did？〃　and　a　whole　lot　more。
yesterday　afternoon　i　was　so　worn　out　by　the　sad　news　from　the　outside　that　i　lay　down　on　my　divan　for　a　nap。　all　i　wanted　was　to　sleep　and　not　have　to　think。　i　slept　until　four；　but　then　i　had　to　go　next　door。　it　wasnt　easy；　answering　all　mothers　questions　and　inventing　an　excuse　to　explain　my　nap　to　father。　i　pleaded　a　headache；　which　wasnt　a　lie；　since　i　did　have　one。　。　。　on　the　inside！
ordinary　people；　ordinary　girls；　teenagers　like　myself；　would　think　im　a　little　nuts　with　all　my　self…pity。　but　thats　just　it。　i　pour　my　heart　out　to　you；　and　the　rest　of　the　time　im　as　impudent；　cheerful　and　self…confident　as　possible　to　avoid　questions　and　keep　from　getting　on　my　own　nerves。
margot　is　very　kind　and　would　like　me　to　confide　in　her；　but　i　cant　tell　her　everything。　she　takes　me　too　seriously；　far　too　seriously；　and　spends　a　lot　of　time　thinking　about　her　loony　sister；　looking　at　me　closely　whenever　i　open　my　mouth　and　wondering；　〃is　she　acting；　or　does　she　really　mean　it？”
its　because　were　always　together。　i　dont　want　the　person　i　confide　in　to　be　around　me　all　the　time。　when　will　i　untangle　my　jumbled　thoughts？　when　will　i　find　inner　peace　again？
yours；　anne　
tuesday；　march　14；　1944
dearest　kitty；
it　might　be　amusing　for　you　（though　not　for　me）　to　hear　what　were　going　to　eat　today。　the　cleaning　lady　is　working　downstairs；　so　at　the　moment　im　seated　at　the　van　daans　oilcloth…covered　table　with　a　handkerchief　sprinkled　with　fragrant　prewar　perfume　pressed　to　my　nose　and　mouth。　you　probably　dont　have　the　faintest　idea　what　im　talking　about；　so　let　me　〃begin　at　the　begin…　ning。〃　the　people　who　supply　us　with　food　coupons　have　been　arrested；　so　we　have　just　our　five　black…market　ra…　…；　tion　books…no　coupons；　no　fats　and　oils。　since　miep　and　mr。　kleiman　are　sick　again；　bep　cant　manage　the　shop…　ping。　the　food　is　wretched；　and　so　are　we。　as　of　tomor…　row；　we　wont　have　a　scrap　of　fat；　butter　or　margarine。　we　cant　eat　fried　potatoes　for　breakfast　（which　weve　been　doing　to　save　on　bread）；　so　were　having　hot　cereal　instead；　and　because　mrs。　van　d。　thinks　were　starving；　we　bought　some　half…and…half。　lunch　today　consists　of　mashed　potatoes　and　pickled　kale。　this　explains　the　precautionary　measure　with　the　handkerchief。　you　wouldnt　believe　how　much　kale　can　stink　when　its　a　few　years　old！　the　kitchen　smells　like　a　mixture　of　spoiled　plums；　rotten　eggs　and　brine。　ugh；　just　the　thought　of　having　to　eat　that　muck　makes　me　want　to　throw　up！　besides　that；　our　potatoes　have　contracted　such　strange　diseases　that　one　out　of　every　two　buckets　of　pommes　de　terre　winds　up　in　the　garbage。　we　entertain　ourselves　by　trying　to　figure　out　which　disease　theyve　got；　and　weve　reached　the　conclusion　that　they　suffer　from　cancer；　smallpox　and　measles。
honestly；　being　in　hiding　during　the　fourth　year　of　the　war　is　no　picnic。　if　only　the　whole　stinking　mess　were　over！
to　tell　you　the　truth；　the　food　wouldnt　matter　so　much　to　me　if　life　here　were　more　pleasant　in　other　ways。　but　thats　just　it：　this　tedious　existence　is　starting　to　make　us　all　disagreeable。　here　are　the　opinions　of　the　five　grown…ups　on　the　present　situation　（children　arent　allowed　to　have　opinions；　and　for　once　im　sticking　to　the　rules）：
mrs。　van　daan：　〃id　stopped　wanting　to　be　queen　of　the　kitchen　long　ago。　but　sitting　around　doing　nothing　was　boring；　so　i　went　back　to　cooking。　still；　i　cant　help　plaining：　its　impossible　to　cook　without　oil；　and　all　those　disgusting　smells　make　me　sick　to　my　stomach。　besides；　what　do　i　get　in　return　for　my　efforts？　ingratitude　and　rude　remarks。　im　always　the　black　sheep；　i　get　blamed　for　everything。　whats　more；　its　my　opinion　that　the　war　is　making　very　little　progress。　the　germans　will　win　in　the　end。　im　terrified　that　were　going　to　starve；　and　when　im　in　a　bad　mood；　i　snap　at　everyone　who　es　near。”
mr。　van　daan：　〃i　just　smoke　and　smoke　and　smoke。　then　the　food；　the　political
situation　and　kerlis　moods　dont　seem　so　bad。　kerlis　a　sweetheart。　if　i　dont　have　anything　to　smoke；　i　get　sick；　then　i　need　to　eat　meat；　life　bees　unbearable；　nothings　good　enough；　and　theres　bound　to　be　a　flaming　row。　my