It's just some little thing.
There's no power behind it, so I leave it alone, sitting somewhere in my head, ready to look at whenever I'm in a dreamy mood.
A crush is like an unfertilized egg. It's beautiful and self-contained, symmetrical and not, forever and not. An egg never turns into anything until you crack the shell, and even then it can become something tasty. Like brunch.
Or it ends up on floor, broken, a big gooey mess.
To make the egg safe to eat, it needs to change, however subtly. You must add heat, or mix it with milk and brandy. An egg by itself is just...itself.
Like a crush.
Bottoms Up, Secret Lovers.
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