Unable to break the connection in Connecticut

Once upon a time, there was a young girl who left home and found herself in a strange apartment complex near a military installation. She spent days, holed up in her new home, peeking out the window, waiting for her husband to come home. "Get a job," he would growl, "get out of the house."

Approximately two decades later, there was a young girl who left home and found herself in a strange apartment complex near a military installation. She spent her days working at her new job only to return home to find her mother holed up, peeking out the window, waiting for her. "Go home to Dad," she would growl to her mother, "get out of my house."

Such was the response when I shared my happy news that I planned to spend an additional week with Savannah in Connecticut. You would not believe the flight deals Brad and Savannah are finding for me! I really feel torn in this tug-of-war battle as Brad pulls the rope on his end and Savannah's grip slips a bit on her's. I know some of you prefer to picture the stubborn donkey analogy with the donkey's haunches dug deep into the ground; Brad tugging at the halter while Savannah pushes the resistant rear. I've already been told that I may need more than a solid kick in the a** to dislodge me from Connecticut. Pictures of Chlo, pining for me are beginning to pepper my phone.

I don't think you understand. Savannah needs me. I figured out how to turn on her lamp yesterday, saving her what I'm sure would have been countless, worrisome hours of effort on her part with no supporting audience. My presence was instrumental in getting her cable turned on. Facing my fear of abnormally large seagulls head-on, I took out the garbage. I made her hot dog soup. I pointed out that we needed powdered sugar. I crookedly applied a decorative quote to her bedroom wall. She needs me.

I am on a constant look-out for potential friends. I ruled out the argumentative couple beneath us although I didn't rule out their entertainment value...I even turned off La Usurpadora in favor of the drama that lurked below the surface. I did provide a box on moving day and helped the female protagonist leave this "h***-hole." How I wished for a suitable musical underscore at that moment.

 "Are you originally from Connecticut," I ask people in a pleasantly inquisitive way while Savannah looks for somewhere to hide. "Can you please explain the state flag to me," is my follow up question. By the way, no one, so far, has been able to explain the Connecticut flag to me except Wiki-pedia. "Stop asking that," Savannah stormed across the parking lot, "you're making people feel stupid." "They should feel stupid," I answer, "a person should be able to explain why there are grapes on their flag when there are no discernible grapes in their state." "Can you explain the New York flag," she shouted, making a scene (and, let's be frank here, embarrassing me in public). "Well...yes, I can," I stated, thrilled with this opportunity to hold a lengthy discourse on my noble, seeped with history and symbolism, and not-at-all-confusing state flag.

I would like to say this story ends happily ever after but I was out of breath from chasing Savannah's car as she attempted to abandon me in the Stuff-mart parking lot. She eventually had to slow down to let me in. After-all...she needs me.