I can't believe it. My boy is 18, should be 18, I don't even know how to say it anymore.
I am lying in bed hiding away and crying my eyes out.
It's been so many years now but the pain is so raw on days like this still.
I can't do it anymore I just want to curl up and the pain to be gone now.
I should be taking him out for his first pint, I should have bought him his first car already, I should be disapproving of his girlfriends and rolling my eyes as he attempts to iron his work stuff before I take over.
Instead I have some photos and a blanket and clothes that don't smell of him anymore.
My gorgeous boy, gone but never forgotten.