As it has been for centuries, today – Valentine's Day – is the day that couples around the world celebrate the love they have for each other. No matter their own individual stories of when and where their love came about, how it has grown – or why it has endured – it is this day that their love is commemorated through gifts, reminiscing – and praising the love itself.

As it has been for years, today – "Black Wednesday" as I have named it – is the day that I sit and lament the love I had for those long gone. No matter each individual story of why we are no longer together, what happened to tear us apart – or who the lady I lost is – it is this day that those lost loves are remembered with sadness, longing – and melancholy.

Like a gambler who blows thousands at the craps table each week and never wins a dime – I feel as if the chances I take on love are always met with disaster. No matter what I do and how hard I try – I just can't seem to get it right. Be it years, weeks – or just a few months – my attempts at courtship, romance and companionship constantly fall on deaf ears. I go in headstrong and heartfelt – and come out of it with a head full of confusion and a heart full of pain. Truth be told, throughout my course of feeble attempts at this seemingly unreachable desire – I have been lied to, cheated on, left for someone else – and even physically attacked. In reality, all I ever wanted from any of those women was simply one thing – their love. And while I am left with hot-iron branded thoughts of all that they did to me – their love is the one and only thing that they took with them when they left.

One thing I do very well is overanalyze things. Rather than let them go as they did to me – and as I know I should – I contemplate and assess why these relationships I entered turned out the way they did. The reason for this is because for no one's sake but my own – I need an answer. The fact that "we" are over and that there is no more "us" is simply not good enough for me. I must know the reason why. Did I do something wrong? Was I too romantic? Am I not in the right physical, financial or materialistic shape? And while on this day – "the most romantic day of the year" – the women I lost and think of will be sharing champagne, romance and true love with someone else – while I sit here all night long asking myself these questions as frantically as if I was at a White House Press Conference…

…alone.

Many years ago, after one of my many heartbreaks, I wrote a poem about how I felt entitled simply, "Alone." While I never published it, but merely wrote it as a catharsis for my pain, I think now, on this day – it perfectly describes how I feel about this topic more than any other words I could type:

There was much more to it but that is all I can recall. In a nutshell, the poem says precisely what I feel at this moment. It also says what Francesca, the main character in my favorite movie, "The Bridges of Madison County" says at the end of the film – which I of course watched tonight in keeping with my evening's theme of contemplation: "For a moment, I didn't know where I was – and for a split second the thought had crossed my mind that he really didn't want me – that it was easy to walk away." In other words, I am astounded at the fact that someone could meet a person, "fall in love with them," promise them a future, fill their world, mind and heart with hope – proceed to pull the rug right out from under them – and then simply walk away as if all was right with the world. I have had this done to me countless times – even as recently as last year – and each time I meet someone new, they promise that they would never do something like that to me – and then history repeats itself with only different means to the same exact end.

Sadly, and probably to my own detriment – I still believe in true love. I still cling to the foolish notion that each person was meant to find their one true love. The only thing is – I do not believe that I am part of that equation. Reason being is that each time I think a woman is the one – she is a wolf in sheep's clothing – and quite frankly – I'm tired of getting bitten.

Happy Black Wednesday.