Why George Clooney can't have me

Saw "Up In The Air" and George Clooney is so perfect I never wanted the movie to end. I also liked that they didn't wrap up his life in the pretty bows of a successful relationship with Alex. But I digress.
There are many, many remarkable things about the movie, probably best discussed by Terri Gross on Fresh Air when she interviewed the director.
But what's interesting to me is how mesmerized I was by this aging, leaner Clooney playing a character who is nearly completely broken. My thoughts are complicated by the physical attraction I have to Clooney, which is not a secret as most of you have heard me speak unequivocally about his physical effect on me. So I'm attracted to him - Clooney - even more after this movie and I wonder what about this character speaks to me.
And the reason I'm pleased that they didn't script a happy ending, by the way, is because I think the learning curve takes longer than a few weeks, one (or two) meaningful relationships and a tacky family wedding to make such a sweeping life change. Errr. But? Do I like him because he's maybe broken in the same way I am?
I mean, I'm single and I've never been married. I value my independence and am at my worst when I feel I'm not able to take care of things myself (which is why 2009 was the worst year of my life).
On the other hand, I'm as connected to friends, family and acquaintances as anyone I know. I have life-long relationships and 100s of friends whom I love and trust. Ryan Bingham has none of these.
Perhaps, I'm thinking, that this lack of connection on the character's part adds to the attraction - because, well, he has nothing to keep him from accompanying me as I move through my blessedly full and connected life. I'd give up nothing I do value to love a man such as this; and I'd gain an intimate connection to someone without fear of co-dependence.
Except that men like this generally made the choices that got them where they are for a reason. And those reasons are not likely to get easily set aside. In other words, what makes Ryan Bingham (or, really, George Clooney) so attractive is that they're , well, broken. And being with me would ...errr.... um. Shit. It's one of those paradoxes where the whole world would simply cease to exist in an instant if I got what I wanted.
So, I guess I'm glad I have no chance with Mr. Clooney. And that Mr. Bingham doesn't really exist.
And, I think I'll spend some time understanding the paradoxical beliefs I seem to be running.
Otherwise, I'm never going to fix myself. And I don't get to just escape into the air whenever things go wrong.