Disclaimer: I don't own the phantom of the opera or any of its characters.

Dear Journal

Dear Journal,

I had been fighting a losing battle from the start. She loved him; always had, always will. And now she's with him. I wish her well. Him too, I guess. He'll take care of her, I know. He loves her as much as I do. Ha, maybe even more. I suppose it doesn't really matter. She doesn't love me, and she will choose whomever it is she loves.

Christine, Christine, Christine. You always seemed so young, so simple to me. How was I to know you had a woman's heart and mind behind your beautiful voice and naïve exterior? Somehow, it only makes me love you more.

Ah, yes. A losing battle. Now I am alone. It doesn't really matter, does it? Alone with my memories. But they are fond memories. Ones I will cherish until the day I die. That day might come sooner than anyone thinks.

I have to ask myself, though, was it worth it? Was it worth all the fighting and fear and near deaths to be left with nothing but my memories? To be forced to live with the knowledge that she chose someone else over me? Was it worth all that just to have spent a few tender moments believing it was me she loved? To believe that I was the one who held the key to her heart? Not that I ever really believed I did. But I could pretend.

She always returned to me. When she was confused, I was her refuge. I knew she would leave, but I had hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

I know she's happy. That's all that really matters, isn't it? She's happy with him. And I'm happy for them. Ha. If I keep saying that, maybe I'll start to believe it.

She's happy. And I have my memories. So, I guess it really was worth it. Worth it all.

I can empathize with him now. I understand how he would have done anything for her. So would I. Maybe she'll return, just to see me. Her poor, jilted suitor. He wouldn't like it, but he'll do anything for her. As would I.

I've decided not to kill myself. It would mean never seeing her again. Not even having the hope that I might. So, I suppose I'll be writing tomorrow. Maybe I'll see her again by that time.

Your Devoted Author,

Vicomte Raoul de Chagny