Mad Love: Finding My Mistah J

The best pictorial representation of their relationship...yeah, ask me in person if you're curious.

 

“Mad Love, baby. If you can’t be sane, find someone who complements your crazy.”

            I’ve been thinking a lot about love lately.

            I’m not really sure why, honestly.  As I’ve been mentioning, I’ve “buried my heart,” foregoing all romantic interest and channeling that energy (and the pain of being on the bad end of unrequited feelings) into creative endeavours and yoga/belly dance. Now that I’ve deliberately diverted my focus, romantic subtext and situations keep popping up in my life. I guess that happens a lot; things you try to sever yourself from end up showing up everywhere.

            Anyway, love’s been popping up subtextually in my life, and it’s got me thinking about love in my life, specifically how I may fit in a romantic relationship as I am now.

            Honestly, it doesn’t bode well for me.

            The short answer is simply that I’m a freak. Eccentric is the polite term for it, but when you strip it to bare bones, it’s the same. I’m the kind of girl who likes to write on my walls and windows and do photo shoots with pints of (most often) fake blood, who nuzzles leather jackets and touches people excessively. I’m the kind of girl who spends a ridiculous amount of mental energy on researching things like serial killers, abnormal psychology, the supernatural, obscure eras of history, and certain fictional antagonists. I’m blunt, sarcastic, have random creative explosions, and I constantly talk to myself, my pets, and some inanimate objects (don’t worry, they don’t talk back. That’s the difference between eccentric and insane.) In short, I’m an odd one.  Not dangerous, but often off-putting. And lately I’ve begun to feel…alone.

Yup...bored one day.

            When I say alone, I don’t really mean it in a depressing and lonely way, though I do feel that way sometimes. I’m aware that there are a lot of strange people out there…but I haven’t seen anyone like me. I’m not under any illusion that I’m some sort of exceptional creature or personality. There are probably people with similar interests and ways of thinking. I just haven’t really found them.

            By now my invisible/imaginary blog followers are aware of my ever-so-subtle-and-mild affinity for the Joker. From The Animated Series to The Dark Knight to various comic issues and graphic novels, I love my Mistah J. I also love Harley Quinn, his girlfriend and frequent companion in many mediums. I am absolutely fascinated by their relationship, which is one of the longest-running relationships in comic book history.

            Now first, let me preface this with a little disclaimer: Harley and the Joker are both completely insane and therefore cannot have a functional, healthy relationship. I obviously don’t see their relationship as a whole as the ideal. There is horrific abuse, manipulation, and darkness in it because both parties are abusive, manipulative, and dark. So yeah…don’t think I’m longing for a mercurial madman who lashes out at me violently and sometimes tries to kill me. 

            Anyway, for those of you who don’t know, Harley Quinn was once Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a young up-and-coming psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum hoping to cash in on her career by writing a tell-all book about her high-profile patients. Enter the Joker. Long story short, the Joker warped Quinzel’s mind, essentially recreating her in his own image. She fell in love with him, completely and utterly, and threw herself into his world of crime and insanity, becoming the Joker’s sidekick and eventual girlfriend, Harley Quinn.

            Their relationship has evolved over years and years through comic book issues and television episodes. Harley began as the Joker’s creation and somewhat of a thorn in his side at times, but she eventually became someone through which the Joker learned how to have feelings for someone else.  To quote Paul Dini, Harley’s creator and a frequent writer of the Animated Series and various comics/graphic novels, “He loves her as much as he can.” The Joker, being a narcissistic sociopath, can’t really love someone as we know love, but he loves Harley in his own way. And though their relationship is dangerous, twisted, and abusive, both Harley and the Joker gain gratification from their roles in their mad love.

            A lot of people think that Harley is an odd choice for the Joker’s girlfriend/romantic interest/whatever you’d like to call her. She’s childlike, bubbly, quirky, and loud. And unlike the Joker, whose insanity has severed any connection he might once have had with his past, Harley remembers who she was before insanity, and she frequently struggles with opportunities for “redemption.” The Joker is too far gone for that. Way too far gone. A lot of Joker fans would rather Mistah J be with someone as far gone as he as; someone equally insane or cruel or violent. I disagree. I love how Harley is her own personality, a personality that sometimes clashes with the Joker’s. Harley is his creation; a brilliant and hardworking psychiatrist that he twisted in his image, but she is not a perfect image of him. They’re different, but their differences complement one another. Harley is as similar to the Joker as anyone can possibly be, but she’s not so similar that his delusion that he is superior to all other beings on Earth is threatened.  Harley is perfect for the Joker because, to use his words, they’re “dealt from the same deck.”

            So what does this excessively nerdy rant have to do with me and my love life? Well…there are times when I’d love nothing more than to find the Mistah J to my Harley Quinn. Not someone who warped my mind or anything, but someone who “complements my crazy.” I’ve long ago come to terms with the fact that I’m strange, and I’ve embraced it. I’m not one of those people who changes their personality to suit a relationship. In the past I might have tried, but in the end, my crazy always, always comes out. I will never be “normal,” never be able to blend in with average society, because I think differently than they do. In that way, I’m like the Joker. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who sees “the joke.” Or, conversely, that I’m the only one who doesn’t get the joke. Hence, I suppose, why I have such a fondness for the song I Started a Joke. But I digress.

I know, Ledger's Joker doesn't have a Harley...but he's my Joker-of-choice!

            I feel a connection to Harley and Joker’s relationship not because of its turbulence and utter insanity, but because of the subtler ways they complement one another. The Joker is a strong, dominant personality. Harley, too, is a strong personality, but she is happiest in a more submissive role and is more than happy to allow the Joker to call the shots. Alone, I’m a very, very strong personality. I tend to be a control freak in many ways, and I tend to be a leader, a decision maker. Most would think that I’d like to be the same in a romantic relationship, but honestly…no. If I’m being completely and totally honest with myself, deep down, I want someone who calls the shots as much as I do…maybe even a little more.

I don’t like the idea of being controlled or bossed around or anything, but I hate being the dominant person in a relationship. I detest it, loathe it. I suppose there’s a piece inside of me who wants someone else to be in control occasionally. I want to be rescued.  I’m like Harley in that way. I spend so much of my life in charge of things, whether that means leading a group project or being the person everybody leans on.  Don’t get me wrong, I love being the person that friends call at 3am to drive them home. I love being the nurturer, the teacher, the Mama Bear. I truly do. But one of my bigger secrets (which I am now deciding to broadcast on the internet) is that I long to be nurtured the way I nurture people. I like to be touched even more than I like touching people, and for anyone who knows me…I really like touching people. Sometimes I just like to be taken care of.

Harley and her Mistah J fit well together but they’re very much their own people.  The Joker is a charismatic, hedonistic alpha male, and Harley is a bubbly, energetic supportive type. They’re individuals, but they’re made for each other. I would love to find my Mistah J, whom I imagine would have to be a very strong and intelligent personality who “gets the joke,” or who sees the world in a similar to how I see it.

I’m pretty sure this is why I search for “übermensch” men…and why I’ve gotten into so much trouble with romance. I’m drawn to men who seem to have a turn of mind that deviates from the social norm, because mine does. Unfortunately, many people who live on the fringe of normal society aren’t as high-functioning as I am. Hence my socially inept, dysfunctional, and/or sociopathic exes, I suppose. And my current unrequited situation that I’m just fucking sick of talking about.

Anyway, I’m truly beginning to think that whatever deck I was dealt from only had one wild card in it: yours truly. If there’s a Joker to my Harley out there, I’ll be shocked if he ever crosses my path. When I’ve reached out and asked for second opinions…mostly when I’m Drunk Dee and someone hasn’t taken my phone away from me…I get a lot of support from my friends. They tell me things like “there’s someone out there for everyone” and that I’m just being silly. That may very well be. I especially like how my dear friend Dio put it when I drunkenly asked him if I’m just too “far gone” for anyone to want to be with me: “I just think you need someone very specific to act as your counterpart.”

Though I’ve close-to-successfully refocused my romantic energies into more productive things, I do hold out some hope, however infinitesimal, that I’ll find my counterpart someday. After all, if Gotham’s most twisted villain can find someone, then I should be able to. Granted, he had to create his “someone” and the relationship is horrifically dark, volatile, homicidal, and dangerous…but sadly, it’s the closest example of love that fits my half mad mind. Some people are looking for the Marshall to their Lily, the Wesley to their Buttercup, the Romeo to their Juliet.  But me…I’m going to hold out for a Clown Prince of Crime to steal my heart.

Ha….that was terrible.

...yep. That's my man. Damn it, I am fucked up.