Why do I get so emotional when I look at you?

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

It took him a solid minute to regain his composure.

I've shown her too much. Dammit.

"I can tell what you're thinking. Don't worry,
I won't tell anyone."

He nodded in reply.

It was too late now,
he felt like sharing everything.

"You know, Makoto-san,
I feel like I've been ungrateful all these years.
I have parents, shelter, food, clothing.
Heck, my family could be considered well-off.
Yet I have this feeling as if I lack something—
a persistent discontentment.

And I'm sick and tired of them telling me what to do,
belittling me at even the slightest mistake,
comparing me to others,
pressuring me to reach their expectations.

I'm so worn out,
so ready to give up.

Despite all of this, I survived because of music—
because of my piano.
It's quite a paradox, though.
My piano is the reason why I smile,
it is also the source of my grief.

Being forced to attend recitals and perform on stage,
exposing myself to the watchful eyes of the pompous crowd
waiting for me to make a mistake—
like a tiger ready to pounce on its prey."