I know it's bad. I've always known. All this time I'd been ignoring it; the cold, hard truth of it all.
All of a sudden it just...crashed down around me. Everything I thought was real was really just a lie that I'd been telling myself for months...years even.
It wasn't love. Not even close. I was too naïve; too young to understand what love even was. He manipulated me. Fucked me up, drove me insane. And I let him.
I've been letting him do it for so long now that I can't even remember my life before him. And the worst part is, now I'm afraid it's too late to let go.
I feel so trapped. Constantly torn between leaving and staying. I know it's an unhealthy relationship, God I know that, but it just...feels so right.
"Hey! Watcha lookin' off into space for?! I asked ya a question!"
I jump in surprise. I must've zoned out again. I haven't slept in days.
"Oh...sorry, what did ya say?" I ask halfheartedly, not even caring if I'll get slapped for not paying more attention.
Instead of getting irritated though, he doesn't reprimand me. Instead he asks, "Is somethin' wrong, Harls? You've been acting so...strange lately."
At this I look up, "Oh! Um...I've just been doin' some thinkin'! That's all..." I trail off, wondering if I've said the right thing.
The Joker nods, seemingly doing some thinking of his own.
"We can go out and do somethin'!" I suggest, "Like burn down a building, or kidnap Robin!"
The Joker frowns, shakes his head. "No...no I got a better idea."
And suddenly he's up off the couch, pacing around our tiny living room.
"Watcha wanna do, Puddin'?!" I ask, trying to sound somewhat excited.
The Joker continues to pace, nodding to himself a few times.
"We should go on a date," he finally says.
If I was standing up right now I'd probably fall over.
"What?" I ask, sure I've heard him wrong.
He looks at me, really takes a good look at me, "Yes, exactly! We should go on a date somewhere, it'll be perfect, Harls!"
I stare at him, "Are you tryin' to be funny, Puddin'? 'Cause I ain't laughin'." I say, frowning.
The Joker rushes back over to where I'm sitting on the couch, "Look Harley, we haven't been on a date in...well...ever!" He takes my hands in his, "It'll be so much fun! We can do all that romantic shit normal people do!"
"Puddin', you're makin' me nervous. What's gotten into ya all of a sudden?" He has to be joking. Probably trying to fuck with me even more than he usually does.
The Joker looks at me quizzically, "What's wrong, Sugar? Can't I just do somethin' nice with you for a change?" He smirks, "Unless you...don't want that."
I look down, "I...I think we need to discuss some things," I say to the floor.
"What are ya talkin' about Harls? There ain't anythin' to discuss." While The Joker says this in a friendly manner, I can still feel the warning in it.
I don't want to discuss anything, is what he doesn't say.
I pull my hands away from his, "Puddin'," I begin, "there's been somethin' I've been wantin' to tell ya for a while now."
"Harley," The Joker replies, "you're scarin' me now." He says it mockingly, but it doesn't mask all the fear hidden beneath it.
I look up at him, searching for...something, anything that might show just a small fraction of understanding. I don't find any.
"I...listen, I just...I don't...well...what I'm trying to say is..." I trail off, unable to finish my thought out loud.
"Just spit it out, Harley!" The Joker finally says, annoyed.
I sigh, take in a deep breath. Hope that the bruises won't last too long. "I don't think our...relationship is really...working anymore," I say quietly, weakly.
The Joker laughs harshly, "Very funny, Harls. I always knew ya had a sense of humor somewhere deep down."
I look down at my hands, unable to maintain eye contact, "I'm not tryin' to be funny, Mista J, I'm completely serious."
At this the Joker grabs my chin roughly in his hand, forces me to look at him. "What do ya mean, Harley?" His voice is sharp, angry.
All of a sudden I feel a rush of adrenaline, I push him away. Stand up, cross my arms, glare at him. "This! This is exactly what I mean! I've done what ya wanted for the past...however many years and this is the thanks I get?" I gesture around at the small apartment, "This is the shithole I'm supposed to be happy with living in for the rest of my life?! And don't even get me started on how I get treated 'round here! I refuse to be treated this way any longer! I am not some puppet for you play with! I am a human being with fucking feelings! I thought I loved you...but oh how wrong I was..." I exhale a deep breath.
Suddenly all the adrenaline is gone; drained away by my outburst. I slump back down on the couch. I need to sleep.
"Harley," the Joker replies after a few minutes of silence. "I never knew you felt that way."
Did I just hear a bit of sympathy in his voice?
"Really?!" I shout, angry again.
I jump up off the couch, "YOU NEVER CONSIDERED THAT I MIGHT NOT LIKE BEING TREATED LIKE A RAG DOLL?! YOU NEVER LISTENED TO ALL THE TIMES I TOLD YOU TO STOP WHEN I DIDN'T WANT TO GO ANY FURTHER?!" My voice is so hoarse now, my shrill screaming could probably be heard throughout Gotham.
The Joker begins to says something, but I cut him off. "Just leave me alone," I say quietly, "Just fucking leave my alone." I don't know quite when I start crying, only that when I do it's more like gasping sobs.
The Joker sighs, "Okay. Just...can we at least talk about this? I won't...hurt ya. I promise."
I sniffle, "Fine. But I don't see how you're gonna change my mind, Puddin'."
The Joker plops down next to me, I notice the sizable gap he leaves between us.
"Harley," he starts, "I know I haven't been treatin' ya very well for a long time now. I just...I gotta lot of anger inside, ya know? An' sometimes it just...bursts outta me when you're around. Now please try not to think of me any differently when I say that ya...well Harls, to be perfectly honest with ya, you just kinda get on my nerves sometimes, Harley."
I bury my face in my hands, the tears finally subsiding. "That's no excuse to hit someone, Puddin'. No matter how angry ya are," I say into my hands.
The Joker is quite for a long time. I begin to think that maybe he didn't understand what I said, but then he finally replies.
"I know, Harley. I know it's not."
I look up and see tears in his eyes. I start to think that maybe he finally understand me.
We sat for a long time. Just lost in our own thoughts. Then, finally, I ask a question I've wanted to ask for years.
"Do you love me?" my voice is small, almost afraid to ask the question in the first place.
"Oh Harley," The Joker laughs, "don't ya know how loaded that question is? I think we both know our relationship is more complicated than that, Pumpkin."
I frown, "Puddin', you're the reason this relationship is gettin' complicated!" I fold my arms across my chest and sigh (admittedly dramatically, but still), "I've told ya I love ya a million time already, Mista J! Why is if so hard for ya to say it to me?"
The Joker looks over at me. I think for a moment that he might just try to slap some 'sense' into me, when instead he says, "Harls, love is a strange thing to me. I dunno how to explain it, but..." He shakes his head, scowls at the floor. "Just give me some time, all right? Sometimes ya just...ya get into my head and everything just goes...crazy."
A smile splits across my face. "That's what love's supposed to do!"
I uncross my arms and lean over to give The Joker a hug. He stiffens at first, but eventually reciprocates the embrace.
Third Person POV
Later on that night as The Joker and Harley lay in bed, Harley already fast asleep, The Joker looks over at his harlequin and finds himself smiling.
She may not be perfect, and she might get on his nerves sometimes, but if he's completely honest with himself he couldn't live without her.
So as he watches her peaceful, sleeping figure, he gently brushes a hand through Harley's silky blonde hair and whispers in her ear, barely audible, "I love you, Harley Quinn."