friday, november 20, 1942

dearest kitty,

we don't really know how to react. up to now very little news about the jews had reached us here, and we thought it best to stay as cheerful as possible. every now and then miep used to mention what had happened to a friend, and mother or mrs. van daan would start to cry, so she decided it was better not to say any more. but we bombarded mr. dussel with questions, and the stories he had to tell were so gruesome and dreadful that we can't get them out of our heads. once we've had time to digest the news, we'll probably go back to our usual joking and teasing. it won't do us or those outside any good if we continue to be as gloomy as we are now. and what would be the point of turning the secret annex into a melancholy annex?

no matter what i'm doing, i can't help thinking about those who are gone. i catch myself laughing and remember that it's a disgrace to be so cheerful. but am i supposed to spend the whole day crying? no, i can't do that. this gloom will pass.

added to this misery there's another, but of a more personal nature, and it pales in comparison to the suffering i've just told you about. still, i can't help telling you that lately i've begun to feel deserted. i'm surrounded by too great a void. i never used to give it much thought, since my mind was filled with my friends and having a good time. now i think either about unhappy things or about myself. it's taken a while, but i've finally realized that father, no matter how kind he may be, can't take the place of my former world. when it comes to my feelings, mother and margot ceased to count long ago.

but why do i bother you with this foolishness? i'm terribly ungrateful, kitty, i know, but when i've been scolded for the umpteenth time and have all these other woes to think about as well, my head begins to reel!

yours, anne