This would be an example of a fascinating “doomed romance,” the ill-fated love of one Tracy and Eddie: the marriage that never happened (despite the dress).It’s time! Valentines Day is almost upon us. Personally, The Snob has never had a Valentines Day worth shouting about her enitre life. (I’m more of a romantic tragi-comedy person.) But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy trading my stories of love unrequited with reader’s stories of love lost, gained and thank God I got rid of it.

In the spirit of “Doomed Romance,” my 2008 series on love gone terribly, terribly wrong, I’m looking for more tales of love gone both wrong and right and  … well, can we still be friends? The best, funniest, saddest, sweetest, heart-aching-est, most fascinating stories will get run in a pre-Valentines Day love blog bash in February.

Just send your stories to me, 500 words (more or less) to blacksnob@gmail.com. Please change the names to protect the innocent (and guilty. I’m not trying to get sued for defamation).

Fellas, don’t be shy. Last time the womenfolk overran the tales of woebegone. Get in on the action. I’m specifically desiring compelling-to-tender-to-edgy. Like those involving you who refuse to give up in your pursuit of the black man/woman of your dreams. For those of you who fell for someone outside of your ethnic enclaves. For those of you who will only date outside of those enclaves. For those who have dated across religions, ideologies, political philosophies and cultural identities. For those with class issues. (Gawd knows, that was a BIG deal with my dates, and I’m a poor person. I was just raised by people good with money.)

If your story has a happy ending, great! But no pressure. If your tale is about that horrid blind date with the guy with the Sean Combs fetish (yes, that happened to me once), please share that too!

Best stories picked will get a free BlackSnob shirt or mug of their choice! Deadline is February 6th!