It has not even been two days since I finished both books of the Phantom of the Opera and I feel like it has been centuries. My mind soared with wonder and excitement and anger through each page. Every letter and word held me tight and wrapped me around a world unknown…. Yet I knew everything. I felt Erik's pain and Christine's love and Raoul's jealousy. I knew what it felt to be behind that loathing mask, to feel no love from a mother. I knew how it felt to have lived without both parents and be enchanted at the thought of being taught by an angel. I knew how it was to know you loved an angel but know that they don't love you back. I had been Erik, I had been Christine, and I had been Raoul. I had been Carlotta, I had been Meg and I had been Joseph. I had been everyone. No one was spared.
Now I wish, I just wish that all of it had been real. I wish I could go back in time and relive it all. Not through the pages of a book but the real thing.
I continued wishing all night as to how wonderful it would be to see it all happen, not from my imagination but through my eyes. But how was I to know that twinkiling light in the sky I saw before falling into deep sleep wasn't a plane but a star. A star that would change my life.