How do you know you are in love?

“How do you know you’re in love?” Lena asks me when we finally meet for a lunch. She has been seeing Greg for three months and she just isn’t sure.

I think about it.

“When I am in love I want to be with the person I love. I am looking forward to seeing them, I think about them.” I say after a while.

“Then we are in love,” Lena smiles happily and I smile back, happy for her. I love to be in love.

“So, is it serious?” I ask. To me, three months equal almost an eternity.


“Yes, you know: you got your toothbrush in his bathroom, some hairs left in his hair brush…” Lena is listening to my every word, so I continue: “Your fingerprints are evenly spread around the flat. You marked a few of his mugs with your lipstick…”

“Hey, stop it. I know what you are doing,” Lena interrupts me. “You just started to describe a crime scene.”

I start to laugh, she is so right.

“Professional deformation, I guess,” I say with a shrug.

“You are terrible, that’s why you are single,” she says half joking.

“Excuse me, you met Greg during a home visit! I work in a lab, most people I see are dead. I am in a big disadvantage,” I object.

“True,” she agrees with me. “Peace offering?” Lana offers me half of her blueberry muffin.

I just shake my head — it’s 1 pm.

“I have to go, sorry. Next week same time, same place?” I ask as I start to leave.

“How could I miss it. See you then,” Lena smiles.