I sometimes feel guilty about the way I raised him. Raoul looks up to me as though I were his father. It makes me think that I should have been around more for him. I mean, it's obvious he turned out all right, but still; maybe I shouldn't have gotten him into the navy and should have let him stay home. He alway loved the sea, but was it right for him?
For goodness sake, with all the regrets I have about Raoul, I wonder what kind of a father I'd make. And believe me, I have thought about marriage. I've been thinking about it a great deal more since Sorelli started avoiding me. She's so young, it's really not fair for me to think that she would give up hopes of a long career followed by a fine marriage just to continue our relationship. I love her dearly, but I don't know that it would ever been possible for a de Chagny to wed a woman of the Opera House, no matter how much he loved her.
I'm starting to get into one of my moods again. It's the kind where I have to start rationalizing everything, justifying it. It's the mood that shows how I seem to be the antithesis of my brother. Perhaps a brandy and a book would help. I just recieved my copy of the latest novel by the English author, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He's really not a bad writer, I mean, for an Englishman.