I know it's unrealistic and stupid. I hate when this kind of stuff happens. But I really was in the mood to pound out some meaningless Jalex fluff.

Your reviews, whether positive or hateful, are more than welcome here.

Dear Justin,

I love you. There, I said it. Well, wrote it. But whatever; you know what I mean. And Justin, I don’t mean I love you like the way I’d say it to Max or Mom or Dad. You’ll probably freak out and think I’m disgusting and throw this away, but please read the whole thing first… I can’t die knowing you don’t know.

Justin, I’m in love with you. I have been, ever since we were kids.

I’m such a great actress, aren’t I? Haha.

Anyway, as I’m lying here, writing this to you—literally, on my death bed—I can’t help but wonder why I didn’t do this earlier. Maybe I would’ve been happier, maybe I wouldn’t have. Maybe it would’ve torn apart the family to know that I’m a sick, mentally disturbed woman in love with her older brother. But none of that bothers me now. Somehow, knowing I’m just hours away from dying makes all of that go away. Maybe it’s because whatever the consequences, I won’t have to deal with them. Does that make me a coward?

Now I know what you’re thinking. “What about David? Was that all just a big fat lie?” I want you to know that I love my husband very much. I would’ve preferred being Mrs. Russo, but for once, I was practical… and I’ve been very happy as Mrs. Henrie. My darling Justin, you and I would’ve been so unhappy if we’d ever gotten married. First of all, it wouldn’t happen unless we’d changed our identities to make us no longer siblings. Second, we would never be able to see our family or any of our friends again. Who was that girl I used to hang with in high school? Harper, I think. My memory is so fuzzy…

Tell David, please, that I love him so much. And I’m sorry to have to leave him.

I’m sorry to have to leave you, too. But I guess this isn’t the first time, huh?

I vaguely remember, the day you told me you were getting married. You pulled me aside and told me before anyone else, I think you said. And maybe it’s just my nasty, fucked-up brain, or maybe it’s the morphine, but I believe you weren’t very happy. You almost cried, didn’t you? Well, whatever, don’t mind me. I’m dying. What the hell does my opinion or memory mean anymore anyway?

To be honest, I really did not see this one coming. How many AIDS jokes did we make? There must’ve been thousands. Haha, maybe I shouldn’t have gone to that shady alleyway tattoo parlor. Oh well, the Chinese word on my ass is awesome. It’s your name, by the way. I told David and everybody else that it was his name in Chinese, but I lied. It’s yours. I made sure. Heh.

So, you still reading, huh? Not totally freaked yet? I’m surprised.

Do you know how much it killed me to see you the very day you proposed to her? You came up to me… it seemed ridiculous. YOU proposed to HER. You were saying stuff about responsibilities or whatever… but I don’t remember hearing “I love her” anywhere in there. Oh well; I’ll never understand the weird things you do. I love that you’re like that, though. I’ve always loved everything about you.

But so anyway, I helped you out and I even took an unnecessarily large amount of interest in helping that bitch wife of yours—sorry, I just never could stand her, and it really had nothing to do with jealousy; nobody likes her—plan for your wedding. I had gotten really paranoid and felt that if I didn’t seriously take part, someone might suspect that I had feelings for you. Stupid, of course, but you know me. I don’t think much past my first initial decisions.

I know the last thing I should be doing right now is trash-talking Selena. But sometimes I wish I could’ve been her, you know? Like, maybe, for the wedding, I could dress up and call myself Selena Gomez and marry you. Then some guy would yell ‘cut’ and we’d complain about how stressful acting is and take five. Acting, heh. You’d be so terrible on tv.

Wow, I’m seriously rambling.

I love David, okay? I love him, and I love our daughter, and I love them both very, very much. But I could never feel the same about David that I feel about you. The whole time I was pregnant with Sara, I pretended it was your daughter growing inside me. Every time David touched me, kissed me, held me, I pretended it was you. Maybe that made the pain of not being able to be with you easier to handle. But then again, maybe it made it harder. I don’t know. But every single time that I slept with somebody, I was thinking of you. It was you. You. I wanted you to be the one making love to me instead of whoever it was, David included. I might’ve forced myself to sigh their name, but in my head, I was screaming yours.

Haha, I’m writing a letter that nobody’s reading. And you’re scarred for life. Aren’t I so selfish?

Ugh… I’m going to finish this up now. I’m so tired. Maybe I’ll die in my sleep tonight. Maybe I won’t wake up to whatever painful disease my shitty immune system gave me (I can’t remember the name of it), and another nasty dose of mor-fucking-phine.

I’m dead by the time you read this, IF you read this. I died one hundred percent in love with you, Justin. I stayed quiet because of this. I wanted you to be happy. Knowing this will make you so unhappy. But I’m too drugged up to care right now. Ugh…

I love you, my sweet. So, so, so much. Goodbye.

Love,

Alex.

xXxXx

Dear Alex,

I finally got through the whole letter. I had to constantly put it down and go cry. I haven’t cried over you in a really long time.

Wow… damn. I should’ve said something years ago, when we were younger, before we married other people. Your death was enough to kill me inside, even more so than when you married that bastard. I agree; Selena is a bitch. I don’t even love her. You’re right, I was crying. Because I felt I had to marry someone I didn’t love to hide the fact that I would never fall out of love with someone I couldn’t have.

Your funeral is in an hour… I’m writing this to you even though you’ll never read it, but I’m going to slip it in with you, kiss it and curl your hand around it, then kiss your dead, chemical-stuffed lips softly, and watch your body burn while my eyes flood with tears. You’ll die with our secret in your beautiful hands. Then, I am going to die and chase after you. My life has been so miserable. I’ve already drunk the magical poison. It’s good for about two more hours, so I’ll be with you soon.

Alex, I am in love with you. We belong together…

Doesn’t it seem really out of character for me? I only live because of you. Now that you’re gone, I might as well go, too. I don’t doubt you loved David, but I hate Selena. We didn’t have any kids for a reason, Alex. And I think I only married her because she looks so much like you. It was easier to pretend I was with you when I had some visual aid.

I’m already dead. My body will only last two more hours, but I’ve been dead inside since the moment you died. When you handed me the letter and told me to read it only after you were gone, and then you died holding my hand…

I guess I’m a coward, too.

Oh, Alex, I love you! I love, love, love you!! God, it feels good to say that, to write it and see the words on paper.

Heh, maybe my Selena and your David will hook up when we’re gone. I don’t care. I’ll be with you forever.

See you soon, my love.

Love forever,

Justin.

Das Ende.

AN: I really do love Selena, by the way. :)