is it because I remind you of him

is that where the responses and explanations and accusations to things i never said and rarely think come from? Projections onto me of a person who never listened to you, in hopes that maybe through my ears that look so like his, he will finally hear you and who you really are. In hopes that someone will recognize you for the woman you are, not a role-playing mother or grandmother or coworker, but a full person with dreams and hopes and ideas and ideals. Longing for recognition but following your cultural sensibilities in denying the wish, so as to deny the disappointment.

You have your memories; I have mine. I know the truth, but my heart cannot believe my brain and indict him. My heart is wrapped in his love and always will be. I'm sorry that I grew up like this but that's just it; you weren't there to fill up that space in my jello-mold child-heart.