A Girl I Knew Analysis

“She wasn't doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together.” —J. D. Salinger, “A Girl I Knew”
Her eyes were closed in a gentle manner, not even twitching the slightest bit, which was odd. Her hands had a loose grip on the railing with her knuckles still the same warm shade of light caramel. In that moment, everything about her confused me; it was as if all of the ticks she possessed for the eighteen years of her life ceased to exist while she stood on the balcony seven stories up.
I made a reach for her hand, but immediately retracted in fear of disturbing her one chance at peace. She looked gorgeous in the glistening beams of sunlight that refracted off of her hair that hung

She had been standing there for over fifteen minutes, with only the minimal shrug of her shoulders and rise of her chest showing that she was present. I, on the other hand, trembled as if I was my own mini seismic wave.
Without even the flinch of a fingertip, she stood steady, not even realizing that she was holding up the universe and—within those boundaries—me. Needing her was something I never imagined being on my mind, for the majority of my life was spent being needed by her.
It was never that I minded being needed; it was just unsuspected that one day she would no longer need only me. Finally, she needed herself more than anything, or even anyone.
For almost her entire life, she needed me to shield her from all of the world’s ugly truths and shame. Living with all that she did made her a wreck in the eyes of everyone else, and yet she still held herself together.
Gosh, she was a brave soul. Everything about her screamed bravery because if not filled with that, then she would be overcome with dismay. Not a day in her life had I seen her so still and so blissful as today. Typically she couldn’t go for more than five minutes without her shaking or twitching; for her to seem so at ease had never worried but calmed me