I wanted to heal the sorrow. Perhaps afterwards, when it is healed, I won't be needed.
I was wondering why Camille was saying I had a good singing voice when I haven't sang for her recently. Then I realized I had. Was that a ploy to get me to sing? Because if it was, it was brilliant and successful. And I was none the wiser. That's a good song, though. People say I'm a good pianist. I'd like to take credit, but it's really the piece. If you can decently play a piece that sounds pretty and rather complicated, people will praise you for your piano-playing skills. The fact is that the piece is a relatively easy one to play when compared to others of my day. I find that the most beautiful pieces are often the simplest ones.
I find myself very conflicted when people compliment me in one way or another on qualities that I don't really have, at least not to the extent at which they consider me. When people say nice things about me, I want to say, "Yes, I'm good! Everything you're saying is true!" but really I'm a mediocre version of the Gordon they see in their minds. Sure I can play the piano, but I'm no Horowitz. Sure, I can be "insightful" at times, but I have just as many stupid remarks as I do insights. The truth is, people who hold me in high regard only make me realize how much less I am than what they say I am.
It's a wonder, though, how people can see such greatness in me when I know all too well that for every good quality I possess, there's a flaw lurking within me that nobody really knows about. The thought of someone knowing me in my entirety scares me. If you could read my mind, would you still be my friend? You may think you know the answer.