he's really gone..

Everyone cried, saying that they were closed to him. How he had helped them, how he had joked with them..

But when I didn't cry that much, they just assumed that I wasn't that close to him.

What they don't realize is that he's more of a father to me than my own.

He was the one who taught me to eat vegetables, when my own dad doesn't even realize I can't eat them.
He was the one who would eat the pineapples from of my meals, when my own dad doesn't even know I'm allergic to it.
He was the one who would send and fetch me to and from school, when my dad is at home, sleeping.
He was the first to teach me to pray.
He was the one who loves to entertain my passion for debates, when nobody wants to hear me. He would listen to what I have to say, and points me where I'm wrong. He would admit that I'm right, something that is rare for someone as old as him to do - admit that they're wrong. Which proves that he is unique.
He taught me about life, he taught me everything. He's the one among them who looks at me without judging. He's the one who believes that someday, I will do just as great. He's the only one who knew the real me..

I feel his loss like it was my own dad that died. Maybe I even grieve for him more than I would ever grieve for my own dad. I'm not saying that I don't love my dad.. I do, but he's not always there for me when I need him..

I don't cry, doesn't mean I don't feel.. I just don't know how to deal with everything that happens..