Count On It

Why do you hate me?

Why?

What did I ever to do to you?

I give you everything I have, everything I am. I let you do whatever you want to me; I never complain. I keep my mouth shut like a good girl until you're finished. And then I snuggle up next to you, and you're at peace for the night. Each time I fall asleep, I pray that when I wake it'll be the morning you decide to give it all up. And love me the way I love you. I pray so hard to any god that will listen. None of them ever do. I guess you're right then, that I don't matter. I don't even matter enough to get my prayers answered.

But, shit, I've wanted this more than anything I've ever wanted anything.

I don't care what they say. I don't care how many times my friends tell me it won't work. It will, I know it will. We're meant for each other, puddin. Star-crossed lovers. I don't know how I know it, I just do. No matter how many times you slap me, bruise me, bite me, stab me, hurt me, I still feel like I'm in the right place. When you're asleep, when my perfect angel is asleep, I watch you. You smile. Not that bloodthirsty grin that you give right before the kill, but a real smile. And I know you're dreaming of me. I dream of you, too.

So it doesn't matter that I have to put up with a little pain to get you. It's all worth it in the end.  Every tear I cry, it's a tear of happiness, I swear. I'm not sad, I'm not angry. Don't ever think that. I'm perfectly content-- no perfectly ecstatic-- to be with you at all times. Even when you hate me, I have you. And that's enough.

You're so beautiful. You're the most beautiful thing ever to be created. Everything. Your hair, always perfectly toussled. Your body, so white and so muscular. So strong and protective. Your smile, red like the blood pulsing through our veins. And your eyes. Those eyes described as cold and evil, I see them completely differently. They're burning. Burning with passion. Oh, puddin, you're so passionate about everything you do. Everyone should try to be more like you.

Not only are you beautiful, but you saved me. I've always been so depressed, sweetie. My folks were always worried I'd end up in the nut-hut. I thought taking a job there would kinda erase it. You know what I mean? I know, it wasn't the smartest of plans, but I did the right thing. There I met you. And you taught me how to smile, how to laugh again. You taught me to not care what they think or what they say. You let my insanity finally come out into the open, and you accepted it. You taught me to accept it, to embrace it. You taught me how to at long last be myself.

If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have lasted long in their world anyway. I woulda broken down in a few months, and they woulda locked me away. I'd be even more depressed than before. You saved me from that.

Thank you, puddin. I can never repay you.

Though I try everyday.

I put on the costume and the makeup, and I plaster a grin. I do your dirty work and I aide you in your job. Oh God, I hate that. Everytime we plan a scheme, I die inside. Puddin, have you ever realized it doesn't work? Almost always we fail, and they take us away, and they separate us. It's almost as if you enjoy seeing me so torn up. I know that's not true, though. You told me yourself, you love my smile. You love to see me smiling.

But still.

It's so dark and lonely in there, puddin. It's all gray and frowns. I can't even laugh a real laugh when I'm locked up. And they keep us so far away from each other. Why would they do that? It's enough to make me wanna put an end to it all. I'm so lonely. Sure, I got Red and Doctach C  and I get along with most everybody but....It's not the same. I need you, I need you. I love those guys, but they just wanna change me. They try to tell me loving you is wrong, that you'll never love me back. They don't know what they're talking about! I need someone to take me the way I am. I love you, and it's part of me. If they don't deal with that, then they're not very good friends, huh?

So...

I have one last thing to add before I go into the emotional ending.

Where are you?

Why did you leave me here alone?

You said you'd be here, you promised. But you didn't leave even the Babies for me.

So I sit here.

And I write on what paper I can find.

And I tell you, Jack Napier, Joseph Kerr, Joker, whatever the hell you wanna call yourself, these are the reasons I love you. And I will never stop.

You can hate me all you want and you can try to get rid of me, but I'll always come back.

Always.

You can count on that, puddin.