Fragile

I once had a little glass ball. It had many cracks and scratches. Some bigger than others. I polished it and guarded it. It stayed in a pretty container and no one else could see the flaws and imperfections. They weren't allowed close enough. I let some closer than others, a couple of people even held it for a while. Most just damaged it even more. Very few helped me polish and fix. Then this boy came along. And I found that I could trust him. He asked to hold that tiny, fragile glass ball. I was reluctant at first but I finally let him. At first for only short periods of time, but I slowly let him hold it longer and longer. He started to fix that little ball, or what I thought was fixing it. He started to fill in cracks, polish, and just protect. Then one day I realized what had happened. I had completely given it to him. The one thing I always promised I would never do. I tried to get it back, but he kept it and promised to keep it safe. He would never let it break. Then one day, he dropped it. He had stopped paying attention and forgot about it. Maybe he wanted to hold something else more. Maybe he was just tired of holding my little glass ball, but he dropped it. It had been dropped before, but that always just resulted in more small cracks. But when he dropped it, it shattered. Because he had been holding it for so long it had weakened. I had stopped strengthening it. I thought he would always protect it. I thought it would never be hurt again. But I was wrong. He broke it. He broke my fragile glass ball. That tiny ball that I held and protected for so long. That tiny glass ball that was all of me.