I could wake up. I could just let go.

I was surrounded by some kind of jelly, light and dark on either side. Pink and blue. If I died, would I go back to the place I was? With the sunlight and the other Joker? The one with brown hair and sane eyes and all the love in the world for me? I was so happy there, with him and our children. 

Or should I wake up, but to what? To the Joker, who looked at me with insane, guarded eyes, who loved me and hated me in a mix that turned to lust? I loved him. Truly loved him, with everything I had, so much it made me hurt all over. I didn't know whether he loved me anymore, not after what I had been dreaming of. I could still see his eyes looking at me, staring at me, as he uttered those awful words. I don't love y- No. I didn't want to think about it.

I turned my head to look at the blue, translucent substance. I could see memories playing out within it. Our children. Him. The sunlight and the meadows and the laughter and the frosted mountains. But it was wrong. I didn't fall in love with that Joker. I turned my head to look through the pink, saw the crazy green hair and the cold blue eyes, the metal smile, the red lips, the pale skin and his infectious laughter. The way he kissed me hard and wanting and rough. I fell in love with that Joker. My Joker. 

And so I chose.