He was kinda boring. He worked in an office and didn't really have his own interests. Or...whatever he did like was boring to me at the time, probably. We never really shared anything we both liked, he just went along with whatever I liked. I didn't really notice it until the year before he died, and by then I just...stopped talking to him about those kinda things as much. I know it's a normal part of growing up, all my friends told me they went through the same thing too, but when your dad just dies you start to feel guilty for thinking those kinda things.