In Oscar Wilde’s Greatest Works he wrote a letter to his selfish spurned lover who destroyed him after Wilde risked his life for him. He wrote this letter from jail. It is hundreds of pages long. When I read it I think of you.

There are so many things I never said to you, because I thought I was supposed to treat people well even if they hurt me deeply. I thought that love lasts forever so I should always treat you lovingly but I wish I hadn’t. 

Because you, the wrongdoer, went around and shared your whole side of the story while you left me bleeding on the side of the road. I was devastated and in that time you took the elaborate measures necessary to protect your reputation. You worked hard to make sure people still liked you instead of caring about the first and only person who you had ever loved.

Your reputation is so precious to you- you have worked hard to keep it intact. But I am the one person who sees through all the glitter and smoke you throw to who you really are:

You are someone who gets away with everything.

That is why you have the sad sorry life you do now. People let you get by because you are charming. And you let them let you. But you and I both know you will never achieve anything worthwhile while marching in your flashy parade of mediocrity. 

PS- Every time I read your web comic I am extremely grateful to not be associated with you any longer.

Dear Joseph,

I am sincerely sorry for not sending you, your things when I had the chance. I was in a period of my life when not a lot mattered to me, call it oblivious, self centered, or just plain selfish, whatever the case, there is no excuse.

I know you had some really personal things in that box, particularly the plaque your family was issued when your father lost his life in the war. I wish I had money to continue paying for your things to be stored. I know you had offered to pay for the shipping for that one special box, and I should have arranged for it to be sent. Instead, I ignored your calls, assuming the conversation would lead to my wallet, or even worse, to my conscience.

I feel terrible for my actions, mostly because you are such a great person, and deserve a lot better. My one wish is that your precious box finds a good home. That its noble contents find a place on some lucky families mantle, or better yet, that they find their way back to you.