may contain nuts.

I was so lucky to get a ticket. They went for over $400; I got mine for $37 through a friend of a friend, someone I had never met. The artist was a world-renowned concert pianist. On the program was my favourite solo piano piece. An hour and twenty minutes. Intended for the harpsichord, but an equal marvel on the piano.
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The pianist played without a score. Most of the time, with his eyes closed. No sheet music anywhere near the stage.
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So what if he misses a note? If he hits the wrong key? I got super nervous a few minutes into the recital. And then the only thing I could concentrate on was whether he was going to mess up or not. I wanted the performance to be perfect. Some say a mistake is natural in a long performance, but I wasn’t having any of it. I was overwhelmed with fear lest he make a mistake. I was sweating bullets all through the show at the sheer horror of him potentially hitting the wrong key. My hands clenched into fists, my knuckles were white and hurting.
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His performance was flawless. The audience roared with applause. Minutes of standing ovation. I sat in my seat, sobbing. With relief and gratitude. And decided never to go to a live concert again.