I wonder what Freud calls it.

“Grace...why do we always fall in love with unattainable older men?”

Today I am going to attempt to answer this question.

But let’s start off by defining some key terms:

1. When I say “we”, think royal “We”. This goes for my fellow bloggers and also any other poor soul suffering from this condition.

2. “fall in love” – this is arguably figurative. We have rarely met or have any form of quantifiable relationship. They are normally some form of celebrity/public figure.

3. “unattainable” – this is mainly because of the celebrity/public figure factor. Also the age factor. And also because occasionally they do turn out to be married – We respect the sanctity of marriage - making them highly unavailable.

4. “older” – this is a big one. Please, we are not like...extreme. We mean like. Mid thirties. This is the general market. There are exceptions. Johnny Depp, for instance, will always be talented, intelligent and bloody attractive.

I really am an expert in this field. I will list my credentials:

- I have an intense and irrational obsession with Gerard Way (31). Go on, judge me. I don’t care. He’s got more talent, intellect and courage than you or your mother. But alas, he is married and a soon-to-be father and, as previously stated, I wouldn’t be attracted to a man who cheated. Because that’s uncool.

- I really really really like Russell Brand (33). Like Beauty, this needs no explanation.

- I also like: John Green, Jon Walker, Oscar Wilde (yes, I know he is dead and also gay, but come on, the man was undeniable), Joss Whedon and a host of fictional characters (including but not limited to; Simon Tam, Sawyer, Angel/Spike/Connor and Sirius Black – and even they are unattainable and older.)

I also fall for men (and the occasional woman) on the bus, on the train, in the park, in the food court, in the coffee shop at the bottom of my street and especially in second hand book shops (all of the men I have named are big readers, except possibly Sirius, but he has the troubled “I was strong enough to escape Azkaban-I’m all rebellious and dark and just want to protect my family-I’m played by Gary Oldman” thing going on).

This never goes anywhere and I never want it to. I just like imagining their stories and their lives and our life together – e.g. SuperDad Jonathan. His wife ran off with a Nubian princess, and even though it pains him to be reminded of her every time he looks in his daughter’s faces, he takes them to the park every Saturday and stays until they get cold. I miss him so bad.


It could be argued that part of the reason I devote myself to these people is because I know that it will never really amount to anything and so it is a simple, moderately socially acceptable way to prevent myself from ever really participating in a relationship and therefore, being hurt.


Or it could be that they are fucking hot.


Young people just suck. My good friend (fellow blogger and epic-hugger) Christine made a very good point the other day, which Aidan (fellow blogger and haver of a tiny bladder – that shit rhymes. boo and yah) agrees with. Like me, they are old souls. We want our respective partners to have already done the whole “young thing” (whatsthataboutanyway?), so we can just get on with the tea and the cuddles and the Nietzsche. Not that we don’t like silly 11-year old boy humour, we do! We just like balance. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?


I hope not.


(I am writing this sentence here because I am telling my Dad that I am writing an essay about Stalinism and the Five Year Plans and I want him to believe me so I shall continue typing until he goes to the mall where he is going to buy me some delicious Frosty Fruits.... he can’t find his keys, damn it. I will have to continue typing until he finds them. Um. Let’s think. Anchovies, anchovies, you’re so delicious!/ I love you more than all the other fishes! I’m genuinely worried that Russell Brand will stumble across my Twitter or this blog and be legitimately scared or just think I am some fangirl. Which I am. He found them (my Dad in reference to his keys, not Russell and the running and screaming). They were hiding near the fruit bowl. He’s leaving. I can stop now.)


To all those out there that love unattainable, older men/women:

We feel your pain. We know it all too well. We can’t offer a solution just yet. But if we do, we promise to blog it here and share it with the world.

And if you are a 30-something public figure with a teenage following:

Just fall in love with us already. We are pretty fucking rad. We’ll keep you young and you’ll keep us warm.

Grace, has eaten 39 Frosty Fruits in less than a week.

p.s. Chi and Ricard tied their hair together, loaded their pistols and began to boogie to the hot Latin beats.

Listening to: Goth Detectives - Federal Drugs Administration