The phantom of the opera is here.

Never has music been more important than it is in this post. So make sure you press play and dive in the memory of (perhaps) the most moving two and a half hours of my life.

It has been a week since I checked in here. It was not my intention to be away for so long but life has to be prioritised sometimes. I have so much to tell you, so much in fact that I am a little lost for words. I remember last Monday and laugh inside a little because… I never would’ve expected this week to be such a stepping stone towards the person I set myself to be in 2015. I don’t mean to build up to anything, in fact you might even find it a little too ordinary, but the truth is, is was all but ordinary for me.

Last week was punctuated by not one but two epiphanies. And because my heart is already beating fast at the sound of those ominous violins, I will only focus on the second one today.

Friday evening, I was given the incredible opportunity to see The Phantom Of The Opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre in the West End. That is a lot of capital letters there and… oh my… a lot of emotions. It has been three days and I am still struggling to find my words, those words that will do it all justice. This was my first musical. But it was more than that. It was a musical revelation to my classically-inclined ears. it was like… In fact, I have not yet found a suitable metaphor.

You have spent years being aware of something yet unaware of its hidden potential. Years that you have lived a certain way, riding up and down the London tube escalators, seeing life around you but… not really seeing it. And then a man twice your age, a stranger who has known you for three days, reaches out to you and opens up a door that will forever remain open. He is grateful for the new light you have shed upon The City That Never Sleeps when all along, he has been the one to hold the light.

Before, I would’ve been confused as to what this man was to me. But I recently read The Yellow World by Albert Espinosa and I now know, this man was one of my yellows. You must be dying to know what I mean; let me explain by quoting the author himself.

I didn’t understand how a stranger who had played no part in your life until two minutes ago could suddenly become a part of you, understand you more than anyone else on this earth and help you to feel completely identified with and understood., Albert Espinoza

Espinosa carries on by saying that a yellow is not a friend, nor a lover; they can be both and they can be neither. But unlike lovers or friends, they don’t have to become part of your everyday life. What Espinosa means by this is that the encounter may only last one week, one evening, one hour, yet it may have a resounding influence on your future self – a future that knows no sadness or sense of loss due to the fleeting nature of the encounter but rather a lasting feeling of gain. The gain of a yellow.

I don’t expect everyone to understand but I built this virtual world with the promise to remain honest while growing as a writer so here’s an honest statement: I feel changed.

More on my second epiphany tomorrow.