I love your piano playing, the way you write music, and how you read;
I love every moment I had spent beside you, whether it was for nothing, or not, I may never know.
No love can be bought or paid for, but it only gives love freely.
You may have lacked reciprocation or been dismayed by me in the past, and now it is difficult to make another graceful move, but it is here waiting.
My piano has always given me what I lack, and what I put into it, I have given my all, but you give to me now your soul, so that I might finish this composition.
