My gaming career pretty much started when my family got a hand-me-down Sega Dreamcast from a family friend who didn't want it anymore. With it came several games, the most notable of which being Soulcalibur and Sonic Adventure.
Actually, that's not entirely true. My family owned quite a few PCs, and a three- or four-player game of Unreal Tournament or Diablo II was not uncommon before the Dreamcast entered the household. But as far as I'm concerned, my gaming career started with the Dreamcast and Sonic Adventure.
I'd be lying if I said it was the first story-based game I'd ever played. But it was the first story-based action/adventure game that ever made me care. For some strange reason, the six parallel storylines in a world of robot enemies and talking animals created an emotional bond that affected me more deeply and directly than any RPG I'd played before it. And being then about 10 years old, it was a life-changing moment.
Since then, games ceased to be a fun distraction and became an opportunity for profound experience. Long before I knew the emotional effects of prose, theater, and film, I was already aware that games were a very serious medium for meaningful storytelling. Subconsciously, of course - this knowledge has only become so clear in the last eight or nine months of intense study and reflection.
In reading Story by Robert McKee, I've become a firm believer that unlocking the secrets of video game storytelling structure is vital to mastering game design. But profound experience doesn't inherently require storytelling of infinite scope and complexity; it can be found in the physical world of the game, as well as dramatic structure of gameplay. All of these things, as long as they contribute to a profound gaming experience, are worth exploring.
I want more things that are personally profound in games. Even if I have to make them myself. That's my "why."