He leaves things out and about.
Things like . . .
His work books.
His manly-man, hard-working, work boots.
They are rough, and worn, and a testament to the work he does to provide for me. They are also manly (did I say that already?).
They remind me of how hard he works, they remind me of the stubble on his manly face, they remind me that he needs a new pair of boots and that we should probably take care of that soon.
I love my roommate. I’m so glad he is mine forever.