It's like I could stress out my early 20s and get work done and get that assignment in and write down what that professor says, but for what? All that extra stress is just taking time off of my life. So what? What's left? Two options we have. Option one, pull a Davis. One, give me wrong, a viable option. You do the work, make the grades, force an early life heart attack on yourself. I'm not judging. I'm just saying. And then there's option two, the Cooper way, four years, hell now, five, six, six and a half, why? Because this way I end up saving time. Because all those option one guys are working for early retirement and all bullshit stress and anxiety and the blood pressure to crease the chance of that 401k ever see in the light of day. Meanwhile, a option two guys will cry at your funeral, mutter something about how he was too young to die. Meanwhile those three extra years I took in school, they turned into 20 or 40 extra years under my vacation called life. You want a beer? I read an article on Facebook this morning written by a recently engaged guy. He said that he's getting married in 39 days and yet still hasn't figured why. He goes on to list all his fiance's noticeable attributes and yet none of these have any reason to do with why he loves her chose to marry her. He said that he's marrying her because he chose to. That he loves her because he chose to. However, I feel about you or the fact that I love you more than you're comfortable with is entirely your choice. And that goes for me as well. It's my choice to pretend not to want to be closer. It's my choice to have random sex with different guys so that I can be relaxed around you. But now I'm making a choice and I'm choosing that we stay away from each other. I can't change how I feel about you and at the same time I can't change your story, your ideas, who you want to be or who you choose to be. I can't pretend to be okay with you talking about girls whenever we get close and I can't continue to torture myself.