saturday, march 11, 1944

dearest kitty,

i haven't been able to sit still lately. i wander up- stairs and down and then back again. i like talking to peter, but i'm always afraid of being a nuisance. he's told me a bit about the past, about his parents and about himself, but it's 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. i've changed my mind, but how do i know he's changed his? i think he has, but that doesn't necessarily mean we have to become the best of friends, although as far as i'm concerned, it would make our time here more bearable. but i won't let this drive me crazy. i spend enough time thinking about him and don't have to get you all worked up as well, simply because i'm so miserable!