Ms. Christine Daaé
It’s been a while hasn’t it? A while since our last conversation as friends, as muses to each other. I won’t deny that I miss those, and I miss them greatly… I have made so many things since we parted on October 28th, since you no longer saw me as your Angel of Music, not even a friend.
I wonder how do you fare these days, but I hope wherever you are, you are doing better, enjoying what life has to offer to you. Forgive me for how… emotional I acted, that was uncalled for on my part, but like I have stated in my previous letter, I genuinely loved you and hated the fact that this, this (excuse my French) bitch just had to cause this rift. However, I won’t deny it was all my fault to be so overwhelming and completely explosive.
I sincerely thought for the longest amount of time I would never get over you. But now I did, and I will acknowledge as well how much of a, what’s the word for it, aggressive, angry person I had been shortly after our separation, how desperate I had been to see you back. But mistake not that I want to try that again… it’s all up to you if you wish to return, for I still will respect your decisions.
You know, shortly after our separation, I turned my attention back onto my work, my work which you once so loved before you turned around and cursed it. Yes, indeed it is my obsession, my meaning in my life as a writer at this point… so might I point out a area just for a moment please?
On the slim, slim possibility that you would read this, I only ask, did you not notice how SHE too was forcing the same character upon everyone else? I simply wished to chat about my work, to discuss it and come up with scenarios, while SHE insisted that her character had to be in EVERYTHING, and HAD to hold some importance. If she did not get her way, she accuses of pushing her away.
All I ask is for you to simply consider this.
But I doubt if any of this mattered to you, since you’ve declared we are now essentially strangers. You singing your songs, and I with my Don Juan Triumphant and the following up pieces that I have recently started composing. I still imagine I could hear you sing to me, you know, when you were my Angel of Music and I was the voice behind the mirror, or more precisely, the voice behind the screen.
The pain had dulled down to a faint sting whenever I think of you now.
It’s like the song of the real Christine: “Recall those days, look back on all those times… Think of the things we would never do…”
There were so many things we promised to each other to do in real life, when we weren’t given the roles of the Phantom and Christine. I still remember how excited I was, taking up art at your urging, wanting to improve throughout the year under your tutelage. I remember still how we promised we would have the best of times if we ran into each other outside of the Internet.
Can you understand my anger now…? I hated her not for who she is, but for what she had DONE to me. I cursed her because of this, not because of anything else, but because she drove that wedge between us, leaving so many things undone.
And now that I have finished my rant, I hope you have a good day/night… wherever you are.