I am in Belk’s, shopping for love. Lucky to find bathmats on sale, a 200-thread oversize towel for only $9.99. Scented soap, a clean comb, a sealed toothbrush. In the magic section, my new love buys salve to hide her wrinkles. I cut my fingernails twice a week, shower every day, change my shampoo. I send away for colorful, strangely shaped underpants, get my first manicure, consult with my friends on new, esoteric topics: semen flow in men over 55. I am in love. As Michelle Shocked sings, “Oh love, this must be love!” In recent weeks, I’ve joined the Y, become a vegetarian, scrubbed my oven, thrown out the old flour, put the new in the freezer, bought avocados. It’s love! It must be love. My bank balance and my waist are shrinking together. My linen closet and my heart are filling up.