Missing piece.

A part of me is missing yet it’s not. You were just another guy in a small town full of drunks. You’d say hi but never go out of your way for me. The day you died I felt numb. Only because a piece of me is missing that I never knew could be taken away from me. This doesn’t even make sense. I’m thankful for the dad I have to show me love. I think of you often. We never had a relationship, nor did I even know your phone number. So why do I feel like something is missing. I’m 33. You passed just over a year ago. What day… I don’t even remember.