A Ghost Story

I know it's after Halloween, but I have a ghost story. 4 years ago on Halloween, my enterprising, big hearted father offered my long-term boyfriend a job with his company back in Memphis. We were living in Los Angeles, a town my boyfriend hated, a place that was mysterious and fickle and playing hard to get. I loved it. My career was going nowhere, but yet I loved it. He accepted the job. He moved to Memphis and a year later we were engaged. Six months later he broke off the engagement, unable to handle the pressure of family's influence and because he claimed he wasn't ready to grow up. I was devastated, but as the dust settled, i was secretly relieved. I had bought myself some more time with my still very demanding, fickle girlfriend LA.

I happily married my husband a couple of weeks ago. We just got back from our honeymoon and had just learned his company was most likely going to be laying him off. On Halloween, the phone rang. I answered, and ghosts flew out of the phone. It was my father, offering my husband a job in Memphis, albeit with a new company, one that didn't seem prepackaged with the "token job"label on it like last time. Its a job that actually makes sense for my insanely talented but struggling husband, a job we had discussed independently of the offer. It's a job that would most likely be the death of his ambition to be a musician. I want him to be happy. Is this what compromise means?

And then there's me. How do I say goodbye to a city I've fallen madly for, warts and all? How do I say goodbye to my friends, the tamales, the crack in my ceiling, my neighbors, crumbling downtown movie palaces, farmers markets on Sundays, the ocean, the career that never really was. I just want the luxury of saying goodbye on my own terms. I don't know if I'm ready. I feel homeless, already broken up from LA. I don't know if she wants me back.