Montu was my Valentine. And he chose me. We've been friends for five years, and I couldn't imagine knowing a more beautiful, wise, or trust worthy person. To celebrate, we bought a 6 dollar bottle of Barefoot (Trader Joe's was closed), and 5 dollar cork screw. We ventured off to the Central West End-a neighborhood in St. Louis known for it's 24-hour coffee shop, eclectic bars, boutiques, and 19th century houses-then talked long about health, the meaning of meditation, sex, and relationships.
We crossed cobble stone streets with our wine, and sat among strangers at a bond fire. "The most beautiful woman," was said about this person and that person. Including the time when a plump man-intoxicated-declared his irrational infatuation with international pop star, Rihanna: "I'm convinced she's in love with me too...I took her to the Grammy's."
We ended up having discussions of love lost and love found and "why men do the things they do." Evidently we all want what we can't have. But that's a different topic entirely.
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