I woke up screaming again. Raoul of course heard me and came running in. I told him that I had nightmares because I saw once again saw that face. I told him that that fateful night at the opera and that deformed figure still frightened me. My fiance believed me because I told him what he expected of that little girl he would forever assume me to be. Raoul is so transparent, in many ways he is the polar opposite of the man who haunts my dreams. It is incredibly refreshing to know exactly what he is thinking and exactly what he will do next. He sees me sorrowfully lost in thought, and he sends me flowers. He hears me cry out in the night, and I know he will hold me until I once again find sleep. If only he knew that it will never be enough. I could never tell him the truth. Yes, the true reason I slept very little these past weeks was because of a face, but it was not a face of which I was afraid. No, I saw the face of a man with a broken heart. The expression on this face was so miserable it was almost comical. It was torn, being ripped apart from the inside out. And every night, I screamed when I came to the horrifying realization that I was responsible for causing that expression that I saw. I was the reason for such agonizing pain. Could I find a way to live with that?
Music is my passion. I sing when I am happy, sad, and especially scared. But I cannot take credit for my song. My music is not my own; it is a gift, given to me by the man I have now betrayed in every possible way. If I had not exposed him that night, if I had not destroyed his carefully crafted façade he would still be with me. He was always with me. I cannot remember a time when I called out for my angel and he did not answer me. Not until now. I had to see him again, even if just for a moment. I had to know that he would be alright before I could truly being to live my new life. Perhaps I wouldn't even need to get close enough to see him. It might be enough just to feel his presence. Just to hear his music one last time.