time and space

...those are the words that come to mind when I think of my family. I need time. Lots of time. I always will. And the distance between us will always be too great, and too close at the same time. I wonder if they think of me as me, or if I'm still the person they created when I lived with them. The child who didn't speak for most of her adolescence, the child who tiptoes around them and does as she's told. The child who won't stop trying to please them. No matter how many times I try to show them I'm not her, they still won't see me. But I see them every time I look in the mirror. Sometimes his face looks back, other times it's hers. I'm not sure which I hate more.