How do I say this?

I'm not really sure how to describe how I feel. You would be 33 years old now if you were still here and it's been 11 1/2 years since you were on this earth. Life has moved on for everyone, well, except me. Mine has moved on, but not like others. I've had no choice, but let mine move on, but there are more days than not that mine just goes with the motions. Most days I don't have lots of feelings other than numb. I do feel sad on the inside and I feel anxious a lot, but mostly, I just feel sad. I guess another way to describe how I feel would be empty. It's a different kind of empty. I don't really know the best way to describe that either. I have people that fill space in my heart. Tebo, the kids, your buddies, of course family and now that sweet little Cohen, but it's a different type of fullness if that makes any sense at all (which I'm sure makes very little sense). Yes, they all serve a purpose and without them I would really be lost. However, the space you took up in my heart when you were here on earth can never be filled with anyone except by you. You were the best thing I ever did in my life. You were perfect and even when I wasn't sure what the heck I was doing when I brought you home from the hospital, you were still perfect. I don't know how you turned out to be such a great person despite all we went through, but somehow you did. I could not be more proud of you! You were the most amazing young man and as a momma bear there is nothing I wouldn't have done for you. Chad, if I could go back to December 2, 2010 and had the opportunity to do so, I would have been in formation in Helman Province in Afghanistan and I would have been the one to step on that IED instead of you. I would have taken that hit for you. I had lived my life, you had not yet. You deserved better and I had a chance to step in and just say, just tell them no son. You asked me and while I told you I would support you regardless of your decision, I do wonder at times if I had just said don't go, would have you stayed. There is a bigger part of me that believes you would have gone regardless, but this momma's heart does tend to wonder at times if I had just said no would you have made a different choice. I know I can't second guess my answer to you that day and honestly if I had it to do over again I'm not sure my answer to you would have been any different. However, feeling like I do today makes me wonder if maybe I would have given you different advice. I'm just feeling sorry for myself today and missing you like crazy. I can't blame it on one little thing. I have these moments every day, but today I was flooded with those feelings and I just needed to get it off my chest. Yesterday was yet another Memorial Day we had to struggle through without you and while I refuse to look at social media on certain days (that one being especially one I avoid) it doesn't change the fact that I know what that days is about and that it is here. I refused to go to the cemetery, because it was packed with people and I just do not like to go when there are tons of people there. I had been there on your birthday and I will go one day this week (if we get a break in the rain). It really doesn't matter what day/date it is, you are missed by me 24/7 365 if I am breathing. I hate that you aren't here. I hate that I am still here without you. I don't say this often (other than just in my head), but it's not fair. It's not fair that I get to continue on this earth and you don't. You had so much life ahead of you and I know you would have done amazing things. As for me, I'm stuck in this fog and weird place that I don't believe I will ever be able to get out of so is that really living? I mean, really, am I living? If I'm not really living then why take you instead of me? It would have been easier for you to accept having to bury a parent than it is for me to accept having to bury my son. I will never understand that son. I miss you. That statement couldn't be more of an understatment, but it's the only one I have. I love you son. Until we are reunited again. Love, Momma bear.