She

used to be compared to a china doll as a child. Now, the only similarity she shared with a china doll was her fragility. He did not know how close she had been. She had been thrown up in the air, she had slipped out of people's hands again and again. If he had not caught her, she would have fallen and smashed into a million pieces, irreparable, disposable. It scared her to know what she had been on the edge of. She knew herself better than anyone else, and she knew how she would have turned out if he had not come along. For that she was always grateful, but constantly nervous of having him slip away. He was the best thing in her life.