Y’know. Love is a little bit like a final exam. You spend a lot of time preparing for it. You do your homework: you flirt with pretty women. You study them day after day. You..um “practice” (though I don’t think a lengthy description of that is warranted). Anyway at this point you are quite ready for the final test. So you think.
But suddenly love finds you in the form of a delightful young lady and you are no more prepared for it than you are for the rhetoric final you have to take this Thursday. Well, you’ll just have to wing it and hope you don’t forget how to undo those little hooks, or Edmund Burke’s rhetorical pentad. Best of luck!