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As I sit and listen to the postal service watching the Red Sox, I glance to my beautiful Kendra and silently thank her for more than I ever could form words. Her superficial flap that constricts her to the sofa is the only superficial attribute the girl has in her whole body.

The ER was an experienced that I wish I had captured on film, old rickety film. I laugh when I get nervous. I was nervous, and thus, giggling like 13 year old girl that was just asked to a movie by a cute boy in her science class. Laughing so hard, I could not push her up the shallow ramp into the Emergency room. Thank you to the J.Crew clad dad who helped me. We slumber partied her stark hopsital room and joked with doctor. We quizzed the male nurse and learned of his life as a floating practioner who is on his way to Kansas City.

Six stiches later, and for the past three days, I have attended to her needs, all while she apologetically giggles as I did in the ER. I love having a patient, the meals, the board games, the complete and utter bubble that she's been put in.

To the selfless girl who brings laughter from tears and tears from laughter. Kendra has given me an amazing opportunity to experience California, her style. I love her for bringing me into her world and embracing me with open arms. I love that she has offered me her friends, her home, her happiness.

Home is where the heart is. Although my heart is mending from the pieces I left behind in Boston, I can make a home here for myself, anywhere for that matter. And my red headed beauty is responsible.