Crazy Little Thing Called LUVY

She's a writer, too. Quite skilled with words. And she's recently fallen in love. I feel compelled to report she's now morphed into something of a babbling fool. "She" is a dear friend of mine and she knows I'm ratting her out, so to speak. I'll call her Luvy, to protect the innocent. Since coming down with her affliction she is no longer able to express herself in complete sentences. It's more like this:

Me: So Luvy, how's the romance going?
Her: Mmm-mmm good.
Me: Do you think he could be "the one?"
Her: Ohhhh, yeah. Uh-huh. Yup. He's so...ya' know. Well, you know.
Me: Umm, no. Not really.
Her: Like, beyond what I...and that mouth! He's like - Oh! (sigh)
Me: You don't say?
Her: (giggling) Yeah. Just like that.

This is an actual transcript of a conversation. Sad. But true. Love has a tendency to render even the most prolific of us, speechless. At least in the beginning, when we're still in a starry-eyed trance. If experience counts for anything, with the passage of time Luvy will snap out of it. Her words will come back to her. Then she'll be left scratching her head and wondering what in the hell had happened to her. She'd apparently gone a little temporarily insane.

Goes with the territory. You've been there too, right? And you've lived to tell. If only it were easy to explain...