Pain...

Today I ran errands. I looked around at the cars I passed on the street, and the people in line at the store. They all were just going about with their lives. Listening to the radio, buying groceries, being normal. I wondered if I looked that way to them. I didn't feel that way. I felt like a ghost. A shadow just passing through other people's lives. I passed an old cemetery on the way home, so I stopped. I just walked around the graves. Somehow I felt more at home there. Just another lost soul. It was oddly peaceful. For just a little while, I didn't have to pretend. I didn't have to put on a fake smile or hide my emotions for the sake of others. 
Tomorrow would be my son's 19th birthday. I should be baking his cake, picking up last minute supplies and wrapping his gifts. 
Instead it will be the 4 month anniversary of his passing...
There is no cake. No balloons. No gifts this year. There is nothing. When I wake up tomorrow, I will remember that he is gone, and that his special day will be just another incredibly painful reminder of that. As if each day isn't hard enough already. 
I keep thinking that we should do something. Celebrate for him somehow. But it's just too hard. I tried to buy a cake mix today. My hand shook when I picked up the box, and it took everything I had not to break down in the aisle. So I put it back. It's just a stupid cake, but I couldn't do it. Just seeing the candles and birthday decorations made me sick to my stomach. How can I celebrate when he's gone? Just thinking about it nearly drops me to my knees. 
I just want to pinch myself and wake up from this nightmare. I want my family back. I want my life back. I want to see my son celebrate his 19th birthday. And his 21st, his 30th, his 50th... I want this pain to stop. I want to hug my boy and tell him I love him. Is that really so much to ask for?