Congratulations, Steve Perry and company. You fuckin' nailed it. You wrote the perfect song for drunk and sober people alike. I thought that you had simply accomplished my dream and were essentially a one hit wonder. False. I did some research on you guys and discovered that Journey is a totally legit band. Sure I know some of your songs, but did you know that you guys had 7 multi-platinum records in a row, one going platinum 9 times? The strange thing is that somehow you guys continue to grow and really have no ceiling in sight.

Don't Stop Believin' song album cover
Journey to the center of your ear.
I wanted to write some really bad stuff about the band and slander myself stupid, but it just wouldn't be true. Y'all rock. That's what makes this so hard. For the first time in the history of "the talk," it truly is me and not you. I have to do this though because it just doesn't feel right anymore. "Don't Stop Believin'" is the most popular song in iTunes history, but as for us, the music has died. Even though I can never get you out of my head, it's over baby.

I guess I haven't been totally truthful. I did know all about you growing up, I just didn't get what all of the fuss was about. However, that all changed one magical night. I was out in Boston about 5 years ago and everyone in the bar had successfully made it to last call. There was a pretty strong stench of melancholy crop dusting the place when all of a sudden that rhythmic piano E chord started and in an instant, everybody knew each other; the love fest was on. Even the prudest of girls were deep throating the lyrics and an entire chorus of terrible singers were missing the high notes and loving every minute of it. I got that feeling in my loins that I hadn't felt since I pinned a "do you like me" note on a rope in gym class. In that dim, sweaty light, I felt hope spring eternal in my pants and I was in love.

I noticed that certain places began playing you before the night was over. This ill-timed surprise didn't hide the truth that our love had curdled. Those first few years were great. Every time I went out, you guaranteed me a happy ending. You really did it for me. I even vowed to give you the first born child I fathered from taking a girl home ‘cause there is no denying that you really did all the work. My penis was just in the right place at the right time. Y'all created a fertile song of drunken destiny that made me believe that there was something beautiful, not terrifying, about meeting a stranger in the night. It was fantastic that we could hang out with my friends and it was never awkward. I was almost positive that you were the one.

But then we chilled one night and for the first time, I felt nothing. I chalked it up to a shitty PA system and being tired, but something inside of me began to die. Things over the next few months only got worse. I even began walking out on you so that I didn't have to wait for a cab.

I noticed that certain places began playing you before the night was over. This ill-timed surprise brought a little of the excitement back, however, afternoon delight didn't hide the stark truth that we had expired and our love had curdled. I wish I hadn't physically abused that speaker with a bar stool after getting blackout drunk. I woke up the next morning with an infinite supply of guilt, regret, and desire to right my awful behavior. You couldn't look at me anymore though, and that's when I knew it was only a matter of time. I had grown, but you stayed the same.

I began wishing Josie would go on vacation so that my love could be used by a cheating womanizer in a perfectly groomed outfield. I began to ba ba bang Sweet Caroline. I even got sprung by a round thing in my face and we both know I hate fat asses. Last night somebody told me that nothing lasts forever and we both know hearts can change. He was right.

Don't 'stop sign' believin'
The end of the road. Still, I must let you go.
You always realized that everybody needs a thrill so I must move on to find mine. You'll be okay without me of course. You are the musical Don Juan. Millions of teenagers will become of age and let you ear fuck the shit out of them. Journey, you were wrong about one thing though: the movie does end. Goodbye.

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