what's the word? drama!!
(my typist wishes to apologize for lack of capitalization; i have awoken her very late in the night, as it is of the utmost importance.)
tonight i have gotten extremely inebriated. exceedingly so, haha. (my apologies to M. Prefect for not having that drink with him)
who knew that being drunk leads to revelations? ha!
and to all phantom-fanfiction writers out there, no, i have not gone on a murderous/violent rampage, nor do i have any intention to. haha
but that is besides the point
. . . what was the point?
. . . oh, yes.
Christine, my darling Christine. i am quite sure you know of my affections for you, of the fact that i'd be willing to die for you (were it not for the fact that i've long since died). ha!
i am also sure that you are not oblivious to your other suitor, M. le Fantôme, who was and is willing to kill for you, put everything on the line for you, etc. etc. i speak only of the positive, as i am sure you have long since overlooked the negative, haven't you?
and so i wondered as to why you broke-off our engagement. surely you could not have expected M. le Fantôme and myself to actually get along, could you? it is a physical impossibility, so long as we both love you. and, at least to me, this means we shall eternally be at war with one another. he, on the other hand, seems to have taken quite a fancy to Mlle. Thropp and vice versa.
so as i thought this predicament over, it came to me.
you are as beautiful as you are intelligent, Christine, which leads me to believe that you only half-heartedly nursed your beliefs that we would have a peaceful coexistence; so long as we were married and i was relatively amicable with him, it would also mean you could meet regularly with your teacher, your Maestro, your Angel!
and you love him, don't you? a love of the most exquisite kind, the kind that one does not admit, even to one's self! you denied it most beautifully, that night on the rooftop. i believed you, you know, and evidentally you believed yourself.
so, Christine, i am compelled to ask - who exactly is it that you love? perhaps i am too drunk to be thinking straight and i need reassurance. or maybe, for once, i am not entirely blind to your love for your Phantom.
do not think of who you are hurting with your words. i just need. . . closure, i believe is the term.
being drunk also makes you ramble, i assume? haha
tonight i have gotten extremely inebriated. exceedingly so, haha. (my apologies to M. Prefect for not having that drink with him)
who knew that being drunk leads to revelations? ha!
and to all phantom-fanfiction writers out there, no, i have not gone on a murderous/violent rampage, nor do i have any intention to. haha
but that is besides the point
. . . what was the point?
. . . oh, yes.
Christine, my darling Christine. i am quite sure you know of my affections for you, of the fact that i'd be willing to die for you (were it not for the fact that i've long since died). ha!
i am also sure that you are not oblivious to your other suitor, M. le Fantôme, who was and is willing to kill for you, put everything on the line for you, etc. etc. i speak only of the positive, as i am sure you have long since overlooked the negative, haven't you?
and so i wondered as to why you broke-off our engagement. surely you could not have expected M. le Fantôme and myself to actually get along, could you? it is a physical impossibility, so long as we both love you. and, at least to me, this means we shall eternally be at war with one another. he, on the other hand, seems to have taken quite a fancy to Mlle. Thropp and vice versa.
so as i thought this predicament over, it came to me.
you are as beautiful as you are intelligent, Christine, which leads me to believe that you only half-heartedly nursed your beliefs that we would have a peaceful coexistence; so long as we were married and i was relatively amicable with him, it would also mean you could meet regularly with your teacher, your Maestro, your Angel!
and you love him, don't you? a love of the most exquisite kind, the kind that one does not admit, even to one's self! you denied it most beautifully, that night on the rooftop. i believed you, you know, and evidentally you believed yourself.
so, Christine, i am compelled to ask - who exactly is it that you love? perhaps i am too drunk to be thinking straight and i need reassurance. or maybe, for once, i am not entirely blind to your love for your Phantom.
do not think of who you are hurting with your words. i just need. . . closure, i believe is the term.
being drunk also makes you ramble, i assume? haha