09.06.88~12.13.14
First Motherfucking Love (FML), 26, of Michael and Sarah (Kincardine, Ontario), passed away on December 13, 2014 kicking and screaming in the library of her home in Narnia and in the cab of his truck in the middle of the Prairies, while on the phone for the last time.
FML was strangled by the ties that bind, and then severed with words after 20+ years of severe heartsickness.
The funeral service won’t be held as their bodies still walk and talk and exist, baffling scientists and poets alike.
Visitation will be held at Our Lady of Lust and Grace (.com) whenever she feels like it, she is feeling like it less and less as the wounds are closing. Burial will not be necessary as a funeral pyre was lit ages ago when the moon was in the right place at the right time to really really really let go. Proceeded by the fire of 2002 wherein his girl Paula burned everything she ever sent.
Funeral arrangements are … being handled badly.
FML was born in Kincardine Ontario on September 6th 1988. Like any child born with his/her heart outside of their body, the prognosis was grim. Again, baffling scientists and poets, FML continued to survive and thrive in its early years. Late night collect phone calls from juevie, water fights in the backyard of his home, stolen moments at parties. FML never really drew breath on its own except on August 6th 1990, that moment is survived by the t-shirt she left at his house, he still has it.
Despite facing self-made, crippling adversity, FML was tenacious, enduring and real and almost came to fruition in the spring of 2001 but was bludgeoned into a coma by stubbornness and fear where it remained on life support, coming out of the coma once, to save her life, and again last year, twice.
She worked as a stripper for more than 15 years. He was a lumberjack before working on the oil pipeline out west. They both dated various other people who were always vexed by not being in full possession of the person they were with. Both halves of FML were fascinated by the life of the other, but always from a distance.
FML enjoyed long walks on the beach, sitting on rooftops, teasing the shit out of each other and never lost the magic that is late night phone calls.
FML is survived by their 3 children, by other baby mamas/daddy.
FML was fostered shortly after birth by Mr. Ciavaglia and his penchant for pairing them up in grade 9 drama class. FML was borne witness to and nurtured by various brothers and sisters for the last 26 years, most recently Natalie and her kitteny-kitten face, she paid dearly for her involvement with FML. His actual brother has promised to find her if anything happens, but she knows she will know.
In lieu of flowers, wait, I want flowers. Flowers can be sent anytime, I like flowers.
Alternately donations can be made to Free Mali the lonely elephant.
(Happy Birthday Honey)
Ah! So beautiful and sad. Resonates with my life in a huge way…
i don’t know if that is good or bad. i know this hurt to write. be well
great concept of how to get this one out. a question, as always. if both parties are still alive, and the love was there for 26 years, how do you truly know it’s dead? the reason i ask is today i wrote of a love that spanned 31 years and it died on one person’s side because they physically did die (i won’t get into visitations and angels right now). otherwise, though a truly destructive dance was done for the last 11 of the 31 years, i do believe, it would have lasted forever, in some form. rather, it lives on with one (despite the destruction) and the one person’s three children.
i copied and pasted an obit, then went in and changed everything for us.
why dead?
because we had to put it down.
it was a choice.
he has a family and i needed my heart back.
love doesn’t actually die, in my opinion, it transforms.
i have loved him in many lifetimes, i know this, and we will try again in the next life.
but in this one, we both needed peace and some semblance of closure.