Kara had come over on a Sunday evening to play games with the family. After games, she and dad struck up a conversation about business, which predictably lasted much longer than my social stamina permits. Endurance was key, and it paid off in the end. Of course, I was grateful that she was willing to talk with him for so long because it truly appeared as though he thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated it, but I was glad to finally have her alone. You see, I had shot my own self-esteem in the foot, like I most often do, and Kara has a  way of healing my confidence like only best friends can. I find it fascinating how one so broken is so good at fixing. I think it has to do with love. We cuddled up on the couch together. She held me as I cried. Told me I was beautiful. Told me I was perfect. Told me she loved me. I remember how the words of genuine affection soothed my soul, like each bone, vain, muscle and capillary was wrapped in its own little snuggy.