Oh Erik, my one true love with whom I had spent years pining after. Although he was thirty-four years my elder, I was in love with the one who stole my heart as he taught me the music.
But then out of the fiery flames of hell burned a love unwanted, Raoul, to whom I severely disliked. He loved me and was powerful enough to marry me. I had no choice in the matter.
I was seven when I met the Phantom, brought to the Opera house by Madame Giry, who took me there after my beloved father perished. I was Christine Daae, one who cried for my late father and was helped by one Angel of Music that bestowed upon me a voice. Why he chose me, I shall never know. Was it love? No. Was it regret? No. Was he a friend of my late father? No. Nor was it guilt, or revenge. It was merely out of the goodness of his heart. He was forty-two years old at the time, but still I fell in love with him. It was less back then, more of puppy love, as I was less than a decade old.
I lived in my quarters, listening to him, never knowing where the sounds came from. I grew older, began growing in more places than up. He said I was becoming a woman, and I didn't know if that meant he liked me or not. I was sad until he taught me new songs.
And then, I was sixteen. I had been in love with Erik, and I had finally seen his face. The problem was...I couldn't go back. I just couldn't. I was infatuated with him. His daring. His achievement, how he never gave up. The persistence. My voice was a frog when I started out and less than ten years later I am in an opera.
I stared at a mirror when I first saw him.
"Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!"
He sang the verse and I fell in love.
I thought he had loved me all along, but I was incorrect. My face showed lust, but his decieved me. He looked upon me as my eyes ravaged his face. He saw that I wanted him, and he lsughed inside. This man was older. He had no use for me. And so he tricked me into a love match.
There was a time when I fell out of love with him. When I was brought down to the catacombs the second time. Towards the end, I did mean the kiss I produced, but he didn't get it. He was still not in love. He saw my match with Raoul, tha damn rich, arrogant man. I did not like Raoul. I never liked him. And yet...
In the catacombs. This is where my--our--story begins.