November 21, 1944

I’m writing again. It’s been a long time since I wrote just because I wanted to and not to note down something for the resistance. Writing down the schedule of when the German troops changed guard doesn’t count. Or does it? Probably not. Father Haralambos always said that writing down your thoughts can clear your mind. How? I have no idea but I’m going try it again and see if Father H was right.

The war in Greece has ‘officially’ ended, whatever that means. Looks like the war hasn’t ended as far as I can see or hear. On the islands, the Germans are still there so that means it hasn’t ended. Why doesn’t someone just take the Greek islanders off and bomb the Germans to hell? How hard can that be?

I haven’t written in my diary since the night before papa was killed. Maybe that’s why my mind has been filled with nothing but finding ways to kill Germans and everything I tried to do, didn’t really account for much. If I had written it down, I would have found a better way of doing it. Maybe.

It seems like a lifetime ago when I was thirteen and I had faith in God that he would save us from the Italians and then Germans. Ha! Whoever says those that don’t believe in God are fools is an idiot themselves. Faith in God…it’s like an Honorable Hitler. I remember papa listening to the radio before the war came to Larissa. He listened and said that the Chamberlain fellow from Great Britain was a fool in believing Hitler. My papa was right. You don’t trust a snake. They will kill you.

I turned sixteen on October 12. Another birthday without so many people that I love. My birthday and then liberation. Not a bad birthday present but I would have loved to have my family. I would give anything to have my family back. Anything. Are you listening God? Of course you’re not. Is life like that? We don’t get what we want or desire? Life has been awful so far but maybe my luck is changing.

Yesterday I played football with Henry. For a Goliath, he sure is nimble on her feet. I haven’t laughed so much in years and with a German no less. I was very surprised to find myself telling Henry how much I loved him. What a strange feeling this is. Loving a German. A German soldier or should I say an ex-German soldier. When does one become an ‘ex’ something? When did he stop being a soldier? Well I don’t quite know but he stopped being the enemy when he became a friend. Do I love him? I think I do. I love him like a brother more than a suitor. That’s a different kind of love, isn’t it. Not that I would know since I’ve never been in love with a man. I loved my father and my brothers but no one had really captured my heart. No, that’s wrong. Someone has captured my heart but it wasn’t a man.

Loving a German…I write those words and I smile. No, not about Henry. I see her and my heart feels like it skips a beat. Whatever that means. I heard my mama say that to my papa once and I thought that was strange. How does one heart skip a beat? I don’t know what it is, but it does it when I see Eva Theresa Muller.

I’ve never been in heavy like before. Is it supposed to be this way? Am I supposed to miss her when I’ve just gone to the market for a few hours? Is that how I’m going to be for the rest of my life? It’s awfully strange. No wonder my brother used to say there is no hope for you after you fall into heavy like and beyond.

I went to the market and all I could think of was what would Eva like to eat. I saw some flowers and I thought ‘hm, Eva would like those’. What a strange feeling this is.

Eva. I’m supposed to feel bad for falling in love with a woman, aren’t I? It’s not normal, right? Who cares. I don’t care and anyway, who is going to care what I do other than the town gossips.

I wonder what mama would have said about this. I’ll never know now, right? Would she be disappointed in me? Disappointed that I didn’t settle down with Apostolos like she wanted me to? Would she have been upset? If she were alive, I would welcome any emotion because it would mean she wasn’t gone. Now I just think about what she might have said or what papa might have done.

Would they have liked Eva? I’m not sure but I do although Eva is not an easy woman to nurse. She is recovering from her injuries. She can be difficult but she is also the kindest, most gentle of souls. Evy just hates being an invalid. Not that I blame her. She is also struggling to cope with being in Larissa now that she is recovering. Getting her out of Kiria’s Despina’s house is a chore. Who would have thought getting someone out of the house was going to be difficult.

I have a plan. In a few weeks it will be Christmas and I’m not sure if we will still be here or if we can go to Church. Not that I want to go to church. If I never set foot in another ‘holy place’ that would be fine with me. There is nothing ‘holy’ about it. I have to remember not to shoot my mouth off about the church with Evy. She’s a woman of faith and it’s important to her.

It will be the another Christmas without mama. Stavros would have been eighteen years old on Christmas Day. Happy birthday Stav. I would spit on Vassili’s grave if I knew where the mongrel was buried . If it wasn’t for him, Stav would be alive. I hope he is roasting in hell, if hell exists. What if neither God or hell exists..what then? I would ask Father H but he isn’t here. Is there a heaven? Where do all those dead people go to when they are dead? Nothing? Heaven? Hell?

I wonder if I can take Evy to Church for Christmas. I’ll get Eva out of the house to go to Church (I hope I don’t get struck by a bolt of lightening…do God haters get struck down like that?) Never mind about God. I’ll take Evy up Athena’s Bluff instead and we can watch the sunset. God won’t bother us up a mountain.

That’s it.


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