"Love" has no true definition or meaning. It is just there, existing in its own purity of strong emotion; honest, true and powerful. And yet, love can be smalls acts of simplicity and so much more. Or it can be the cause of one's destruction and annihilation.
For Jonny Frost, it was all those things combined. It was a myriad of endless possibilities, or in his case, impossibilities.
He can describe it as being two halves of a whole; the pros and cons of being a fool in love. Sometimes, the pros outweigh the cons and other times, the cons outweigh the pros. It depends on perspective, he believes. But in all honesty, especially in his situation, it appears the cons outweigh the pros triple ten-fold. Jonny admits he is a fool, well, an outright dumbass. And yet, he can't really offer a full explanation of how he got here. Well he can, but the memory of it all still sits too fresh in his mind; too… painful, too upsetting.
Probably even more upsetting than the fact that Jonny laid sprawled in a pool of his own blood on the cold hard ground, in the middle of the night. His usual clean-cut suit torn and ripped. He can feel the blood seeping from the stab-wound in his abdomen through the expensive fabric of his suit. And his jaw, along with many other parts of his sore body, were quickly growing stiff with discomfort.
He doesn't know how long he laid there, drifting in and out of consciousness, but he is guessing it must have been for hours. He should've felt bothered by that guess, but to be truthful, he felt tranquil. It was a feeling he welcomed because suddenly, he could focus past the fuzziness that was clouding his thoughts and soon heard the familiarity of cars driving through the streets of Gotham city. Although it was quite a way away from where he was, he took solace in the sounds, even though he was surrounded by the horrible smell wafting from the two dumpsters that sat near him.
Jonny wouldn't call himself religious, but if this was a sign from the "Big Man" upstairs that it was his time to go, he will gladly go — or maybe not gladly. Well, to be frank, Jonny doesn't know. He is confused on how he should feel about his impending death. Maybe he'll die and go to "heaven"? That's what the Catholics called it, right? Or was it "Paradise"? Or maybe he will die and get sent to the fiery pits down below.
Jonny lets out a bitter laugh at that, grimacing slightly from the pain that followed, now that would be something; to live years under the Joker's command only to die and get banished to hell for all eternity. The irony of the joke fell flat though, as Jonny closed his eyes and settled back into his shell of numbing the pain that continued to shoot through him.
But, what if he didn't die? Jonny opened his eyes at that thought, staring openly into the night, not really looking for anything but needing to see the wide-open expanse of the sky. It made him feel a little less like he was drowning. Would that be a relief? Or would it be some unknown force punishing him?
Or maybe, "Heaven" and "Hell" didn't exist and all he would be was a lonely soul passing through the world. Or the Beyond.
His eyes fall close again.
He doesn't quite know how to feel at this point, only that he has been in a state of numbness since he woke up. He hasn't worked up the courage to think about why this happened or how, although the true reason taunted him as it skimmed the edge of his thoughts; remnants of a tinkling laughter echoing in his mind, encased by a deafening silence that threatened to combust.
No, he prefers to be numb.
Nevertheless, that laugh, that soft sound of tinkling bells; a forever litany embedded into his skull, gives him pause. Making him think and reflect to a time when things were much simpler. Then suddenly, a memory springs up and before he could shove it back down, he finds himself diving head-first into nostalgia and the hopelessness of one single question: "what if?"
But, no… he can't start here.
He needs to go back.
All the way back to the beginning, before everything went to hell.