heavens, as long as you know that you are pure within, and that you will still find that happiness.
Sunday, 27 February, 1944
Dearest Kitty, From early in the morning till late at night, I really do hardly anything else but think of Peter. I sleep with his image before my eyes, dream about him and he is still looking at me when I awake.
I have a strong feeling that Peter and I are really not so different as we would appear to be and I will tell you why. We both lack caring mothers.
His is too superficial, loves flirting and doesn’t trouble much about what he thinks. Mine does bother about me, but lacks sensitiveness, real motherliness.
Peter and I both wrestle with our inner feelings, we are still uncertain and are really too sensitive to be roughly treated. If we are, then my reaction is to ‘get away from it all.’ But as that is impossible, I hide my feelings, throw my weight about the place, am noisy and boisterous, so that everyone wishes that I was out of the way.
He, on the contrary, shuts himself up, hardly talks at all, is quiet, daydreams and in this way carefully conceals his true self.
But how and when will we finally reach each other? I don’t know quite how long my common sense will keep this longing under control.
Yours, Anne
Monday, 28 February, 1944
