The Ever Tenacious Mr. Smith

Some men are incredibly persistent, you can rebuff them a few thousand times and they still come back. We all have our weak moments, and if these men are try long enough they will catch you at one (or eight) of those moments, and then the cycle repeats itself all over again.

Let me tell you about Mr. Smith.

I met Smith (Smithy, Smithers, I digress) in the summer of 2016 – I was between jobs, having just finished an intense yearlong fellowship and searching for my new role full-time. This was also the summer when I really dived into the dating apps. I was going on a couple dates a week via Bumble, quickly narrowing down my pool to an older man I really liked and another around my age who I had a surprising amount in common with, but was very uncertain about.

The one I really liked was madly in love with his company and could not bear to part with his emails for more than maybe an hour at a time. I let things fade out and expire with that one.

Smith was very religious, so I thought I was safe with him. But even on our first date, after a few glasses of wine, he kissed me good-bye (like a lot of kissing), a bit too much kissing outside of a metro station if you ask me. I extricated myself after a few minutes and went home. On later dates, the kissing would become even more intense – he was obviously eager to move faster than I had anticipated.

I didn’t find Smith traditionally attractive, but he was very smart and I found him fascinating to talk to. When I spoke, he smiled approvingly, as if he had been hoping I’d say these things: catholic, liberal, Master’s Degree, interest in politics. I mentioned having a desire to be part of a political power couple, and little did I know, I was checking off each little box in his mind.

He was very aggressive (always touching me and trying to kiss me) and I was very standoffish. But by the tail end of summer, I was comfortable enough to meet him out late at night at bars and clubs, but we’d maybe have a drink or two before he’d want to take me back to his. I started to feel like he didn’t actually want to hang out so much as he just wanted to get laid.

Then I started a new job. And I was exhausted. And I may have gotten really drunk at my housewarming a week before starting my new job and made out with my best friend…

I didn’t really feel ‘right’ when I was with Smith, he was interesting, but I wasn’t falling for him. My best friend on the other hand, well he quickly became my boyfriend after our drunk make-out session on my front steps. And I let everyone know that I was now unavailable.

Then Trump got elected President and our world ended. Grown men and women were crying in their offices that day. We all huddled around computer screens to watch Hillary give her concession speech, and we all cried a little bit harder.

And somehow – in the midst of all of that, my team was running a special event that would last that Thursday through Sunday. On Saturday Night, I came home around 10:00 pm from working, poured myself a gin and tonic and settled in for the night wearing purple plaid PJ pants and my baggy University of London sweatshirt (jumper).

Within a few sips of gin, I was interrupted by a phone call. From Smith.

“I’m in your neighborhood. I’m coming over. What’s your address again?” I think I told him that I was tired. He insisted until I gave in and told him the number.

He arrived at my door visibly inebriated, but not inebriated enough in his mind – he fixed himself another gin, and refilled mine beyond the modest portion I had given myself. A fervent liberal, he was very upset with the outcome of the election and at that moment, he wanted comfort. But I was not the right person to give it to him.

Smith tried to convince me to kiss him multiple times in the course of the 45 minutes that he was in my living room. I explained that I loved my boyfriend, but this did not faze him. Eventually I simply told him I wanted him to leave, and I kept repeating this until he stumbled into an Uber home.

He attempted to do this a few other times, but I never again told him my address and he was unable to remember it on his own.

Fast forward to just after Christmas, my boyfriend not only took a job thousands of miles away over the Christmas Holidays, but also decided we needed to break up. And I don’t know how he did it, but Smith (like a weird psychic) got in touch with me very quickly after.

Sad and lonely, I ended up at his place on New Year’s Day and we drank pink Prosecco and Pinot Grigio. He put on old music and asked me to slow dance with him. He listened when I spoke about my break up, and then after more than a little alcohol things progressed.

A couple weeks later, something similar happened, but he left soon after I remember just feeling dirty…  I got back on Bumble and before I knew it, within 3 weeks I had a new boyfriend. But that didn’t stop the once-a-month check-in texts from Smith.

I thought we had established a tentative friendship when he invited me to his graduation party. I texted him, saying that I’d be arriving late, but he called and told me not to come, that it was basically over. Which I later learned meant that he had secured a sure thing and didn’t want me to come around and possibly interfere. (I mentioned this to him a few months later; he looked away and smiled wryly, knowing he had been caught.)

Late summer, now over a year since we’d met, my relationship fell apart and I started a new job. I was also training for a marathon and only drank on Thursdays and Sundays (to coincide with my rest days). Who texts me as soon as I start my new job? Who wants me to come over as soon as he’s back in town?

I go, but as soon as I woke up to Smith going out at 5 am to grab condoms from the corner store, I’m instantly regretting every decision I’ve made in the past 12 hours.

He’s also starting a new job, so it’s easier this time to keep him at arms length. I start dating a plethora of men, not sleeping with anyone, but going on 8 sometimes 10 dates in a week. Once I realize I’m starting every sentence with ‘I may have told you this before, but…’ I decide to take a step back.

Smith has been busy, too. But he does make an appearance in January briefly.

Then in April – I meet The Conservative. And he is pretty much an instant relationship. Our friends introduced us at a Gala, after two weeks, he was my official boyfriend. After 3 months of obvious incompatibility, we end things. And who pops in again?

We’re in summer number 3, year 2 now.

In early September, he actually takes me on a lovely day-trip; I start to wonder if maybe I’m wrong about him. But after a long day in the sun, a startling amount of wine, and an altogether unsatisfying end to the day, followed by him sending me home in an Uber. I’m rolling my eyes and vowing not to see him again.

I started seeing someone, but with every Facebook status, Snapchat, and Instagram story, I see his name. He’s keeping an eye out, waiting.

Skip ahead to February, once again I’m single and it turns out that my new favorite bar is a staple of his. We go for drinks, and I finally ask “Why are you still here?”

In his mind, we’re the same. He envisions this Clinton/Frank Underwood Marriage and Business Relationship. We would probably never fall in love, but we understand one another.

Over numerous cocktails, he painted this picture of a perfect DC-elite life that he envisioned for us. We are already startlingly honest with each other about the other people we date, so why not continue that while being in a relationship? Why is love necessary when two people understand each other?

But sadly he got something incredibly wrong about me. I’m a dreamer, and I believe that I deserve to fall in love. I believe that I can fall in love and marry and do it all for the right reasons. Not easily maybe, but even without privilege, it sounds far better to me to love the one I’m with than to marry someone I’m not sure I actually like.

We’re approaching our 4^th summer and 3^rd ‘Anniversary’ this year, and I am continuously confused as to why he is still around. If you know the answer, please fill me in.