I will confess that only now, this late in life, am I reading Anne Frank’s diary.
With just 20 pages left, and her demise imminent, I am reluctant to finish it, as I know how I am going to react, and I am already grieving. During the course of this read I have fallen completely in love with this brave and enchanting girl who was so far beyond her years. Still, she had a child’s innocence while teetering between remarkable insight, bravery, fear, and a young girl’s fantasy.
I find that as I get older certain things punch me right in the heart, and my soul bleeds openly. Our world is filled with so much beauty which runs concurrently with a certain degree of horror and unimaginable suffering. This dichotomy spins my head and leaves me uncertain of everything outside of my own small family.
Now I am off to say goodbye to Anne and hurt just a little bit more.