How Not to Make Amends

I resented you for years,
you old fart, for your meddling
seemed always to make
my best-laid plans fizzle,
fade, die on the vine
and I would have sworn
your collective efforts
secured the failure
of all good things.
Honestly, though, now
as I examine my part,
I can see it's as though
I constantly wore headphones
so no input from you,
wise as it might have been,
could mingle with my ideas,
could work into my introverted
interpretation of right and wrong,
of wise and foolish, of my stubborn pride...
I wish I'd been open to you
and hope I've learned to listen
before I judge you and your ideas.