CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Wednesday, 5 April 1944

For a long time now, I haven’t really been interested in my schoolwork. The end of the war still seemed so far away. And if it isn’t over by September, I won’t go back to school, since I don’t want to be two years behind.

Peter filled my days, nothing but Peter. Nothing but dreams and thoughts, until Saturday night when I felt terrible. I sat on the floor in my nightdress and said my prayers. Then I just lay down on the floor and cried. But I knew I had to fight against it and, finally, when I climbed back into bed at ten o’clock, the suffering was over! And now it’s really over. I’ve realized that I must do my schoolwork. I want to make something of my life. I want to be a journalist. I know I can write. A few of my stories are good, a lot of my diary is alive and amusing, but… I don’t know yet if I can be a really good writer. But then if I can’t write books or for newspapers, I can always write for myself. I don’t want to live like Mother, Mrs van Daan, and all the other women who simply do their work and are then forgotten. I need more than just a husband and children! I want to be useful, and to bring enjoyment to all people, even those that I’ve never met. I want to go on living after my death!

I’m grateful to God for my writing. So I’ll go on trying, and everything will be all right, because I’m not going to give up!