He collected bugs as a child. Praying mantises, spiders, beetles.

We walked along the fence line to hold jumping spiders and watched assassin bugs.

He likes to drive fast, and he races his friends through back roads in his old Celica.

I haven't been there to see it yet, because I'd have to drive two-and-a-half hours. 

He watches videos while he eats, usually pertaining to cars. 

I like to sit and crochet next to him while he does so.

He enjoys mountain views. 

He takes me to the prettiest places.

He likes cheap food.

I love to buy us Cookout and eat until were nearly sick.

He looks nice in corduroy and denim.

I adore the pictures he sends me, usually posed in front of his car.

He paints his nails black. 

He enjoys when I doodle silver stars or spell my name on his nails.

He listens well. 

I talk a lot.

He is humble.

He won't complain about sharing my twin-bed with me.

He would drive two-and-a-half hours just to help me fix my car.

I don't know much about cars.

He calls me all sorts of sweet nicknames.

Most of which, he steals from me.

He reminds me of a june-bug, so beautiful and simple.

That's what he calls me.

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