"It's buzzing!" I said.
"There are wires inside," he said, patient. "The electricity sounds like buzzing."
He smoked with my roommates and me last night. We sat around the kitchen table and when he got up to use the restroom or grab me water, I squealed to my roomie about him. When we started dating, he was adamant that he wasn't interested in smoking, that he'd tried it when he was younger and didn't particularly enjoy it. He tried it for me. He brought over the ice cream I asked for. He wants to see me all the time. He takes care of me. I know you're all sick of reading this, but I need to keep records of his love, or I will forget and demand more the way I always do.