Dearest

I do not fear him anymore.

I used to. Dear God, how I used to fear him.

When I tried to apply my limited knowledge of the world to him, in my mind, I created a creature of evil that I could not cope with. I was unfair in judgment, as many were, yet my intentions had never been to cause harm. I was so very young at the time, but although my youth caused me to make poor decisions, I’d like to think that it also helped me to grow into a person that can undo the damage that has been done.

I do not take the full blame of fearing him. I know that I cannot commit myself to unneeded guilt when I have enough to cope with already. He is a master of fear and manipulation, somehow sensing the darkest fear within moments of observing someone. He uses the natural fear of the unknown to his advantage, using the sense of mystery to its full advantage, whether in appearance, in his voice, or even in the way he moves.

His mere presence is unsettling…The fear is primitive and animalistic, something that no person living in Paris is well acquainted with. When we are living in a civilized, social world, we often forget that deep down; there are instincts as old as time. Human nature, in its most primitive form, has been forgotten in this world. But he brings these instincts out immediately, causing a person to sense danger, to truly feel that they must fight or flee. When I am with him, I suddenly feel as if I am a deer, and there is something dangerous nearby, or perhaps I am a little bird, and I can feel a hawk near. To feel that primitive, to be confronted with all of the emotions that society has avoided, is terrifying…And yet, it is exhilarating.

He brings out emotions within a person that they could not express in public. He encourages things that society views as unacceptable. In Paris, society honors dignity and poise, control and restraint. The strict rules of class and manners are followed diligently, and any kind of passion or true expression is greeted with scorn and displeasure. As a child, I was conditioned very early to speak quietly and seldom, sing only when asked to do so (and only songs of health and happiness), and to never express my emotions to anyone other than a close relative (and only appropriate emotions). I, like most well brought up young ladies, was conditioned to gasp at crude language, blush at any suggestion of intimacy, and weep delicately at the first hint of sadness. I was shielded from the horrors of this world, and I was discouraged from dealing with serious or grim issues, which only crippled me when I was confronted by darkness.

He encouraged me, in every possible way, to break society’s restrictions. He was a contradiction to everything that I knew, in every possible way. I understand why I resisted so…I suppose what I went through can be compared to Plato’s theory of the Cave. I was chained, within a cave, unaware that I was being held prisoner. I was watching shadows on the walls, thinking the shadows were the real thing, and I was content because I had no idea that this wasn’t reality. He brought me out of the cave…He forced me out, kicking and screaming, until I was looking out into the world with wide eyes. Seeing everything new was unbearable at first…I realized that everything I thought I had known was a lie. I realized that I

had been trapped in a cave my whole life, and now I was free. It was not the liberation that one may think…I was terrified and distraught all at the same time. I was afraid of the truth, and then I was pained by the lie. But in time…How can one be angry?

If he had left me in the cave, I would have never known that I was trapped. I would have remained content until the day I died because I was ignorant of the reality of my life. But he took me to the truth by force, and there was no returning afterwards.

Raoul…you know not of him, but I shall tell you soon…he offered me a way back into the cave. He was also ignorant of his position, although he had a better life then I at the time. I did try to tell him of the truth, but just as I had, he resisted as well. He seemed so happy, and I knew of the pain of finding out the truth…I left him in his lie.

But I had a chance to return to the world, to the cave, and I could not go. Don’t you see? How could I be happy in the cave again? How could someone return to their confinement and be happy with the knowledge of their lives? I could not pretend to be happy the way I lived….Nor could I forget this feeling of absolute understanding. So I left everyone to their caves, and no one tried to follow me.

I believe that it was because of my youth that I was so easily broken of my conditioned habits and my silly ideas of what I should be. I had been surrounded by adults and intellectuals throughout the famous ordeal of the opera house, yet they acted as childish and as ignorant as I had. But after everything was finished, after the battles were fought, after the bittersweet victories, after the thankful realization of survival, and after the regret of the sacrifices that had to be made…Everyone walked away without a single lesson learned.

They were all so convinced they all were of what they had created in their minds…Even after they were given a lesson, after they had a moment of true understanding…Every single one of them threw the golden epiphany away, for the sake of pride and the desperation for a justification for their horrible deeds. Thank God that, in my youth, I walked away changed. I was able to grow, and take what I learned with me.

He swears that it was not my youth, but my heart. There were, he pointed out, many members of the cast that were years younger than I, from children of cast members, to the tiny pupils of the opera house. He said that he knew I would understand one day…My soul was different from anyone else’s that he had ever seen.

I asked him once, how can he see into a person’s soul? He could not tell a good soul from a heartless one in just a single glance. He just smiled at me.

Only one person, in the hundreds that were involved, changed for the better. Only one tried to atone for the mistakes that contributed to the horrors that had taken place.

But, I’m sure that if you ask him, he will agree that one was enough.

So I will tell my story, although it is quite different from the story you are expecting. It is of love, of great passion, of horror, and of tragedy…But mostly it is about us. It is about the teacher and the student, the songbird and the rose, the guardian and the angel. It is about me, for my story is great…But it is about my darling as well. It is about a man who was born a contradiction to society, and grew up with the truth. It is about a man who despised society with every fiber in his being, yet longed to be ignorant and part of it. It is about man who lived alone, gazing into the cave, longing for just a single person to walk out of it and join him, and then finally going in and dragging one out to be with him forever.

It is about my love, my friend, and my teacher.

My dearest Erik.