give me my money back

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Dear Ben,

We have been through a lot together.  I’ve stuck by you through so many ups and downs.  The whatever and ever amens (do you even remember the day we first met anymore?) and the rock this bitch’s (how angry I was at you.. ? sigh.. you weren’t the same after that.)  I’ve given you everything I’ve got!  I stuck up for you when no one else would.  I accepted, admired even, your redneck past.  All the screen names and shower sing-a-longs we shared.  Have you forgotten everything we had?  I made Scott hang up the three posters of you in our bedroom, even though he made fun of me and said that they “are all the same picture”.  Whatever, I thought, that’s love.  There are rooms in this house that I don’t open anymore because I once danced to Underground or sang Kate there.  

When Songs for Silverman came out I was hurt.  I stayed away from you for weeks.  But you kept pushing Bastard on me when I would forget to stop iTunes after Rockin’ the Suburbs was through and eventually I realized where I had been wrong.  And, as always with you, I couldn’t resist and learned to love that part of you too.  You are my lullabye, my most valuable possession and my regrets.  

A month ago you announced your reunion show with Darren and Robert.  You barely gave me three weeks notice to get my act together to be there.  I almost spent $450 on a ticket to come see you, only to find out after the fact that they were being sold half price at the door and there were empty seats in the house.  Now I can’t hardly even listen to the first minute of Narcolepsy without my stomach turning to knots.  I have you to thank for this. 

Today I woke up (way too late, feeling hungover and old) and finally found Way to Normal in its entirety.  No wonder you made such an effort to keep it from leaking.  This is by far the worst album you have ever released, and it’s the last straw for me.  I can’t keep living this lie!  I’m leaving.  It’s over.

You can keep the hundreds of dollars I’ve spent to come see your shows. 
But I’ll be keeping the last name.. Julie FoldsFive has a certain ring to it.

Love,
me

PS.. remember when?

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