........ and we haven't spoken in 3 years. Which is awful beyond words.
I have a phone number, which I send text messages to, and call from time to time (he doesn't answer either).
His Facebook account has been deleted: I don't know his physical address.
Part of me dies on the 12th of May each year, because I know that every day we don't talk, something precious is lost. And that one day, he will realise that, and have to live with the regret. That knowledge, more than anything, hurts.
But still, in spite of all the pain that I feel, and all the anger (some I agree with, some I do not, although I understand an awful lot of it) he feels, I will keep trying, even though it would be easier emotionally for me to seal up that door in my heart.
Because, no matter what, he is my son, and I love him. So, happy birthday Mr Man. I love you.