I met the love of my life. Only problem is she died in 1982.

As featured online @ Daily Telegraph on 20 April 2016

Ever think the love of your life, your one and only, might have come and gone in a previous era?

Wait, hold up, don’t answer that yet. This is one of those rare non-linear columns that starts at the end and rewinds to the beginning.

Like Citizen Kane, Double Indemnity or All About Eve.

Cue flashback…

This was a time when three-mask sailing ships were the only form of transport, men and women pranced the streets in Elizabethan breeches and corsets, and Charles Dickens read poetry to children on the sidewalk.

No, actually it wasn’t. It was 2005.

I was watching a movie. It was boring. Then it was awesome. Someone stole some jewellery, there was a restaurant, some guy wearing his pants too high escaped the clutches of the police and then… The Most Beautiful Woman That Ever Lived appeared.

And when I say “ever”, I mean “ever ever forever ever”.

She swam in the water off the French Riviera with her hair slicked back, drank beer and ate chicken like she was holding knitting needles and making a Christmas sweater, and dazzled at a masquerade ball in a dress, make-up and hat thing.

It was amazing. I was mesmerised, and desperate to find out the name of this film and this woman.

She was my one and only.

I went to the most reliable factual source I knew – Wikipedia.

The name of the film? To Catch a Thief. The actress? Grace Kelly.

Grace Kelly. I couldn’t believe that was her name. ‘Kelly?’ I thought, ‘She wouldn’t have to change her surname when we get married!’

My heart thumped — as it does when you’re in love. She was a Hollywood superstar and me a nobody, just an impressionable young chap. But all I needed to do was put myself in front of her and she’d realise I was the one.

I was about to click on her personal Wiki page when I noticed what year the film was released. 1955.

I immediately felt all 48 colours of the emotional spectrum, and my thoughts went into overdrive.

These were the main three.

1. Atomic tangerine: I was shattered. It was so long ago, like only a few years after Citizen Kane, Double Indemnity and All About Eve.

2. Carmine Red: I was angry. The film is in colour. Why is it in colour if it’s made in 1954? That’s misleading. I should sue.

3. Celestial Blue: I was hopeful. It’s only 51 years ago. So she’s like 75 now. She could have aged well; still look like she’s 40… ish. Age is just a number anyway.

I progressed to Grace’s own personal Wiki page to see how well she’s aged but found she didn’t get age at all. She died in 1982.

She had won an Oscar, left Hollywood, moved to Monaco, married a Prince, given to charities, loved disadvantaged children, had three of her own, and then died in a car accident at the age of 52.

A sad end to what — on the surface — sounded like a really happy life.

Loving Grace Kelly and having her love me didn’t seem so stupid while watching the film, but knowing of her plight I felt nothing but stupidity.

“I don’t think it sounds stupid at all,” a friend said to me, having recently been told this story.

“When I was younger I was going to marry Peter Brady from the Brady bunch. I was certain he’d love me. I laugh about it now, but it was a dream I was happy to be in.”

A dream, that’s right, that’s what it was. But as dreams have a habit of creating unusual circumstances, it got me thinking about the question I asked at the very beginning.

Could the love of your life, your one and only, have come and gone before you even got here?

As much as I will forever love Grace Kelly, I sure hope not.