When I'm gone, don't throw me a funeral.
The only funeral I'll ever need is for you to incinerate me and scatter me around the perimeters of my childhood home for the ghost of my younger self- should it be there- to mourn over.
Don't scatter me across oceans.
Allow drowning people to safely go under without me getting into their lungs before they could die the way they wanted to so their autopsies don't reveal me as the cause of their deaths instead of themselves like they've always wanted to.
And definitely...do not even think of burying me.
Remember what we once discussed about ants.
If all else fails
...turn my ashes into a rare diamond so you could sit me in the museum of broken hearts and visit me on days when no hand reaches for yours from across park benches or hospital beds
...like they used to.