March 15, 2026

Wildflower - (Episode 1 of 4) - "First Bloom"

Wildflower - (Episode 1 of 4) - "First Bloom"
Apple Podcasts podcast player badge
Spotify podcast player badge
Castro podcast player badge
RSS Feed podcast player badge
Apple Podcasts podcast player iconSpotify podcast player iconCastro podcast player iconRSS Feed podcast player icon

Elise Thorne's life is a masterpiece of control—color-coded calendars, contingency plans, an apartment so minimalist it barely looks lived in. Then the flowers start appearing. A violet in her bathroom tile. Wildflowers in her desk drawer. Morning glories climbing her lamp. Impossible blooms that no one else can see. When she meets Roman Castellanos, the landscaper hired for her biggest event of the year, he sees them too. More than that—he knows what they mean. The wild magic she's been carrying since childhood is waking up, and it won't stay contained much longer. For the first time in thirty years, Elise can't control what's growing inside her. And she's not sure she wants to.

Unlock an ad-free podcast experience with Caloroga Shark Media! Get all our shows on any player you love, hassle free! For Apple users, hit the banner on your Apple podcasts app. For Spotify or other players, visit caloroga.com/plus. No plug-ins needed!

Subscribe now for exclusive shows like 'Palace Intrigue,' and get bonus content from Deep Crown (our exclusive Palace Insider!) Or get 'Daily Comedy News,' and '5 Good News Stories’ with no commercials! Plans start at $4.99 per month, or save 20% with a yearly plan at $49.99. Join today and help support the show!


We now have Merch! FREE SHIPPING! Check out all the products like T-shirts, mugs, bags, jackets and more with logos and slogans from your favorite shows! Did we mention there’s free shipping? Get 10% off with code NewMerch10 Go to Caloroga.com


Get more info from Caloroga Shark Media and if you have any comments, suggestions, or just want to get in touch our email is info@caloroga.com

WEBVTT

1
00:00:03.160 --> 00:00:05.160
Caloroga Shark Media.

2
00:00:14.359 --> 00:00:21.399
Hello and welcome to Romance Weekly. This is Wildflower, Episode one,

3
00:00:22.239 --> 00:00:37.039
First Bloom.

4
00:00:37.079 --> 00:00:40.000
There's a violet growing out of my bathroom tile. I

5
00:00:40.079 --> 00:00:43.399
noticed it this morning, brushing my teeth, still half asleep.

6
00:00:44.320 --> 00:00:47.240
A tiny purple flower pushing up through the grout between

7
00:00:47.280 --> 00:00:50.560
the white hexagons, right next to the base of the toilet.

8
00:00:51.240 --> 00:00:57.880
Perfect petals, delicate stem. Absolutely impossible. I live on the

9
00:00:57.880 --> 00:01:01.479
fourteenth floor. There's no soil in my barthroom, no seeds,

10
00:01:01.840 --> 00:01:06.280
no sunlight worth mentioning. The tile was professionally installed three

11
00:01:06.359 --> 00:01:10.120
years ago, sealed and grouted and guaranteed for a decade,

12
00:01:10.480 --> 00:01:15.400
and yet a violet. I got down on my hands

13
00:01:15.400 --> 00:01:18.760
and knees, still in my pajamas, and examined it like

14
00:01:18.840 --> 00:01:22.760
a crime scene. The grout wasn't cracked. The flower had

15
00:01:22.799 --> 00:01:26.040
somehow grown through it the way tree roots eventually break

16
00:01:26.079 --> 00:01:30.120
through sidewalks. But this wasn't years of slow pressure. This

17
00:01:30.359 --> 00:01:36.159
was overnight yesterday. There was nothing today, a perfect violet.

18
00:01:37.280 --> 00:01:40.719
I should have called building maintenance. I should have documented

19
00:01:40.719 --> 00:01:43.799
it for the insurance company in case it indicated some

20
00:01:43.959 --> 00:01:47.079
kind of structural issue. I should have done any number

21
00:01:47.079 --> 00:01:51.439
of practical, sensible things Instead, I pulled it out, threw

22
00:01:51.439 --> 00:01:54.400
it in the trash and got ready for work. That

23
00:01:54.560 --> 00:02:00.040
was my first mistake. My name is Elise Thorn and

24
00:02:00.200 --> 00:02:05.719
Events for a Living, Weddings Galas, Corporate Retreats, product launches

25
00:02:06.319 --> 00:02:10.919
anything that requires logistics, timelines, and the careful orchestration of

26
00:02:11.000 --> 00:02:15.360
human beings who would otherwise create chaos. I'm good at it,

27
00:02:16.159 --> 00:02:20.680
very good. My calendar is color coded, my vendor relationships

28
00:02:20.719 --> 00:02:24.199
are impeccable, and I have backup plans for my backup plans.

29
00:02:25.039 --> 00:02:28.639
Control is my love language. Order is my art form.

30
00:02:29.840 --> 00:02:33.360
This is not a personality quirk. This is a survival

31
00:02:33.360 --> 00:02:36.439
strategy refined over thirty three years, and it has served

32
00:02:36.439 --> 00:02:41.840
me well. I have a corner office, a six figure salary,

33
00:02:42.599 --> 00:02:45.719
and an apartment so minimalist that visitors sometimes ask if

34
00:02:45.719 --> 00:02:49.439
I've just moved in. I haven't. I've lived there for

35
00:02:49.479 --> 00:02:53.680
four years. I just don't believe in clutter. The point is,

36
00:02:54.919 --> 00:02:57.360
I am not the kind of person who finds mysterious

37
00:02:57.360 --> 00:03:00.919
flowers growing in her bathroom. I am not the kind

38
00:03:01.000 --> 00:03:06.159
of person to whom unexplainable things happen. I have specifically

39
00:03:06.199 --> 00:03:11.080
designed my life to exclude unexplainable things. Because unexplainable things

40
00:03:11.120 --> 00:03:15.280
cannot be managed, and things that cannot be managed create anxiety,

41
00:03:15.840 --> 00:03:21.199
and anxiety creates mistakes, and mistakes create consequences that spiral

42
00:03:21.280 --> 00:03:24.520
beyond your control. So when I got to work that

43
00:03:24.639 --> 00:03:27.479
morning and found a cluster of wild flowers growing out

44
00:03:27.520 --> 00:03:31.400
of my desk drawer, I did not scream. I did

45
00:03:31.439 --> 00:03:35.280
not call for help. I calmly closed the drawer, walked

46
00:03:35.280 --> 00:03:38.639
to the bathroom, splashed water on my face, and gave

47
00:03:38.680 --> 00:03:41.960
myself a firm talking to in the mirror. You are

48
00:03:42.000 --> 00:03:45.719
not losing your mind, I told my reflection. There is

49
00:03:45.719 --> 00:03:49.840
a rational explanation. You are tired, you are stressed. The

50
00:03:49.879 --> 00:03:52.439
Whitmore Gala is in three weeks, and you haven't slept

51
00:03:52.439 --> 00:03:55.759
properly in days. Your brain is playing tricks on you.

52
00:03:56.759 --> 00:04:00.400
My reflection looked unconvinced. I went back to my desk,

53
00:04:00.840 --> 00:04:05.599
opened the drawer. The wildflowers were still there, purple and

54
00:04:05.680 --> 00:04:08.560
yellow and white, a little meadow growing out of my

55
00:04:08.599 --> 00:04:13.520
spare stapler and my collection of binder clips. They swayed

56
00:04:13.560 --> 00:04:16.040
slightly when I opened the drawer, as if stirred by

57
00:04:16.040 --> 00:04:20.360
a breeze that didn't exist. I closed the drawer. I

58
00:04:20.439 --> 00:04:24.399
left it closed for the rest of the day. The

59
00:04:24.399 --> 00:04:28.839
Whitmore Gala is the biggest event of my year. Miranda Whitmore,

60
00:04:29.199 --> 00:04:32.639
heiress to a pharmaceutical fortune, has decided to throw a

61
00:04:32.680 --> 00:04:36.800
spring celebration for three hundred of her closest friends. Theme

62
00:04:37.920 --> 00:04:44.480
a garden awakening budget, effectively unlimited venue. The Hartfield Estate

63
00:04:45.160 --> 00:04:48.959
one hundred acre property with formal gardens, a restored greenhouse,

64
00:04:49.480 --> 00:04:53.160
and enough old money atmosphere to make even jaded socialites

65
00:04:53.160 --> 00:04:57.399
feel impressed. I've been planning this event for six months.

66
00:04:58.199 --> 00:05:03.319
Every detail is accounted for, the caterer, the florist, the

67
00:05:03.360 --> 00:05:08.560
string quartet, the lighting designer, the valet service, the backup

68
00:05:08.600 --> 00:05:12.800
generator in case of power failure. I have spreadsheets nested

69
00:05:12.839 --> 00:05:17.600
inside spreadsheets. I have contingency plans for weather, for vendor,

70
00:05:17.680 --> 00:05:22.360
no shows, for celebrity, guest drama, for every conceivable crisis.

71
00:05:23.399 --> 00:05:25.879
What I don't have is an explanation for the flowers

72
00:05:28.000 --> 00:05:31.839
they keep appearing. That's the thing. It's not just the

73
00:05:31.920 --> 00:05:35.480
violet in the bathroom, not just the wildflowers in my desk,

74
00:05:36.319 --> 00:05:41.720
It's everywhere now, morning glories climbing my desk, lamp daisies

75
00:05:41.759 --> 00:05:44.839
pushing through the carpet of my car, A spray of

76
00:05:44.879 --> 00:05:47.759
Forget Me nots blooming from my purse when I open

77
00:05:47.800 --> 00:05:51.800
it to find my keys. No one else sees them.

78
00:05:52.360 --> 00:05:55.600
That's the part that frightens me most. I watched my

79
00:05:55.680 --> 00:05:58.759
assistant open the same desk drawer where I saw wildflowers,

80
00:05:59.360 --> 00:06:02.800
and she just run image through, normally pulling out a stapler,

81
00:06:03.199 --> 00:06:07.199
complaining about the lack of paper clips. The flowers were

82
00:06:07.240 --> 00:06:10.759
right there, swaying inches from her hand, and she looks

83
00:06:10.759 --> 00:06:14.879
straight through them. I'm either losing my mind or something

84
00:06:14.959 --> 00:06:18.959
is happening that I cannot explain. Neither option is acceptable.

85
00:06:37.199 --> 00:06:42.000
The landscaper arrives at Hartfield Estate on Thursday afternoon. I'm

86
00:06:42.040 --> 00:06:45.319
there to meet him because I'm there for everything. The

87
00:06:45.480 --> 00:06:49.680
estate's permanent gardening staff will maintain the grounds, but Miranda

88
00:06:49.759 --> 00:06:53.519
wanted someone special to design a living installation for the gala.

89
00:06:54.360 --> 00:06:58.319
Something modern, artistic, the kind of thing that photographs well

90
00:06:58.720 --> 00:07:04.920
and generates social mediaz. His name is Roman Castellanos. He

91
00:07:05.000 --> 00:07:07.800
runs a small company that does high end landscape design,

92
00:07:08.319 --> 00:07:12.360
the kind that gets featured in architecture magazines. His portfolio

93
00:07:12.480 --> 00:07:17.720
is impressive rooftop gardens in Manhattan rewildered estates in Connecticut,

94
00:07:18.399 --> 00:07:22.519
a meditation garden for a Buddhist retreat center that architectural

95
00:07:22.560 --> 00:07:26.680
digest called Transcendent. He pulls up in a truck that's

96
00:07:26.680 --> 00:07:30.959
seen better days, which surprises me. Everyone else in this

97
00:07:31.040 --> 00:07:34.680
industry arrives in vehicles that cost more than most people's houses.

98
00:07:35.480 --> 00:07:39.759
But his truck is muddy, practical, clearly used for actual work.

99
00:07:40.480 --> 00:07:42.959
There's soil in the bed and a collection of hand

100
00:07:42.959 --> 00:07:47.199
tools visible through the back window. He gets out, and

101
00:07:47.240 --> 00:07:53.160
I revise my mental image again. I was expecting someone polished,

102
00:07:53.680 --> 00:07:58.639
someone who'd matched the glossy portfolio. Instead, he's wearing work

103
00:07:58.680 --> 00:08:01.360
boots and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

104
00:08:02.160 --> 00:08:05.360
His hands are rough, calloused, the hands of someone who

105
00:08:05.399 --> 00:08:08.920
actually puts them in the dirt. Dark hair going gray

106
00:08:08.959 --> 00:08:11.920
at the temples, a face that looks like it's been

107
00:08:12.000 --> 00:08:15.920
through something, and come out the other side, Miss Thorn.

108
00:08:16.920 --> 00:08:19.920
He walks toward me, not rushing, taking in the grounds

109
00:08:19.959 --> 00:08:25.199
as he moves. I'm Roman. We spoke on the phone, Elise.

110
00:08:26.160 --> 00:08:29.720
I shake his hand. His grip is firm, but not aggressive,

111
00:08:30.160 --> 00:08:33.360
the kind that suggests confidence without needing to prove anything.

112
00:08:34.320 --> 00:08:37.399
Thank you for coming on short notice. Missus Whitmore was

113
00:08:37.480 --> 00:08:41.559
very specific about wanting your work. She mentioned the theme

114
00:08:42.120 --> 00:08:46.399
garden Awakening. He looks past me at the formal gardens,

115
00:08:46.919 --> 00:08:50.960
the trimmed hedges, the controlled perfection of the Hartfield Grounds.

116
00:08:52.480 --> 00:08:57.200
Interesting choice for a place this manicured. Is that a

117
00:08:57.240 --> 00:09:03.320
problem not a problem? Observation? He turns back to me,

118
00:09:03.480 --> 00:09:07.480
and there's something in his expression I can't read. Awakening

119
00:09:07.519 --> 00:09:11.440
implies something that's been asleep, something ready to grow beyond

120
00:09:11.519 --> 00:09:15.720
its boundaries. That's hard to fake in a space this controlled.

121
00:09:17.919 --> 00:09:20.200
I feel a strange prickle at the back of my neck.

122
00:09:20.759 --> 00:09:24.440
The way he says controlled, it sounds less like a

123
00:09:24.480 --> 00:09:27.600
description of the gardens and more like something aimed at me.

124
00:09:29.159 --> 00:09:32.480
I'm sure you'll figure it out, I say, my professional

125
00:09:32.519 --> 00:09:36.080
mask firmly in place. Let me show you the areas

126
00:09:36.080 --> 00:09:40.600
we've designated for the installation. We walk the grounds together.

127
00:09:41.639 --> 00:09:47.440
I explain the vision, interactive garden elements, pathways that reveal themselves,

128
00:09:48.039 --> 00:09:51.080
flowers that seem to grow in real time using clever

129
00:09:51.200 --> 00:09:57.399
lighting and mechanical elements. He listens, nods, asks occasional questions.

130
00:09:58.240 --> 00:10:01.960
His attention seems divided, though he keeps glancing at me

131
00:10:02.000 --> 00:10:05.039
when he thinks I'm not looking a slight furrow between

132
00:10:05.080 --> 00:10:11.000
his brows. Is something wrong? I finally ask, no, sorry,

133
00:10:11.799 --> 00:10:15.639
He shakes his head. You just remind me of someone,

134
00:10:16.159 --> 00:10:19.639
someone you've worked with before, someone I knew a long

135
00:10:19.679 --> 00:10:25.039
time ago. He doesn't elaborate. We're in the greenhouse now,

136
00:10:25.519 --> 00:10:29.440
the space where the main installation will go. It's climate controlled,

137
00:10:30.039 --> 00:10:33.080
filled with tropical plants that shouldn't survive this far north,

138
00:10:33.679 --> 00:10:37.240
maintained year round by a staff of three. The air

139
00:10:37.320 --> 00:10:40.320
is warm and humid, heavy with the smell of green

140
00:10:40.399 --> 00:10:44.159
growing things. I'm explaining the placement of the lighting rigs

141
00:10:44.200 --> 00:10:48.360
when I see it, a flower growing from my shadow,

142
00:10:49.240 --> 00:10:54.919
not metaphorically, literally, a small white blossom pushing up from

143
00:10:54.960 --> 00:10:57.840
the greenhouse floor at the exact spot where my shadow falls.

144
00:10:58.759 --> 00:11:01.840
It wasn't there a moment ago. I saw the clean tile.

145
00:11:01.960 --> 00:11:05.840
I'm sure of it. But now there's a flower and

146
00:11:05.879 --> 00:11:10.159
it's growing, visibly growing, the stem lengthening as I watch.

147
00:11:11.519 --> 00:11:15.320
I step back. The flower stays where it was, but

148
00:11:15.399 --> 00:11:18.720
another one sprouts where my shadow falls now, and another

149
00:11:19.840 --> 00:11:22.919
a trail of white blossoms marking my retreat.

150
00:11:24.440 --> 00:11:25.120
Are you okay?

151
00:11:26.360 --> 00:11:29.720
Roman's voice cuts through my panic. I look up and

152
00:11:29.720 --> 00:11:32.320
find him staring at me with an expression I can't name,

153
00:11:33.159 --> 00:11:39.320
not confusion, not concern, exactly recognition. You can see them,

154
00:11:39.679 --> 00:11:43.440
I whisper. He doesn't ask what I mean. He just

155
00:11:43.519 --> 00:11:46.879
looks at the flowers growing in my shadow, the impossible

156
00:11:46.919 --> 00:11:52.519
white trail spreading across the greenhouse floor, and he nods. Yeah,

157
00:11:52.559 --> 00:11:56.480
He says, quietly, I can see them. We sit on

158
00:11:56.519 --> 00:11:59.639
a bench outside the greenhouse, far enough from the main

159
00:11:59.679 --> 00:12:03.279
house that no one will overhear. My hands are shaking.

160
00:12:04.120 --> 00:12:06.519
I've clasped them together in my lap to hide it,

161
00:12:07.039 --> 00:12:10.279
but I think he notices anyway. How long has this

162
00:12:10.360 --> 00:12:14.919
been happening, he asks? A few days, maybe a week.

163
00:12:16.039 --> 00:12:18.720
I try to think back, but the days blur together

164
00:12:18.799 --> 00:12:22.399
when you're planning an event this size. The first one

165
00:12:22.440 --> 00:12:25.720
I noticed was a violet in my bathroom. Then they

166
00:12:25.759 --> 00:12:30.240
started appearing everywhere, my car, my office, my purse. I

167
00:12:30.279 --> 00:12:33.799
thought I was hallucinating. I thought I was losing my mind.

168
00:12:34.519 --> 00:12:39.600
You're not, then, what's happening to me? He's quiet for

169
00:12:39.639 --> 00:12:42.919
a moment. His hands are resting on his knees, and

170
00:12:43.000 --> 00:12:47.559
I notice them again, the roughness, the dirt permanently embedded

171
00:12:47.559 --> 00:12:52.480
in the creases, hands that work with growing things. What

172
00:12:52.559 --> 00:12:55.879
do you know about wild magic, he asks, I don't

173
00:12:55.879 --> 00:12:59.440
know anything about any kind of magic. Magic isn't real.

174
00:13:01.000 --> 00:13:03.480
A week ago you would have said flowers don't grow

175
00:13:03.480 --> 00:13:09.200
from shadows. He's not mocking, just stating fact. Things are real,

176
00:13:09.240 --> 00:13:11.840
whether we believe in them or not. I don't have

177
00:13:11.879 --> 00:13:16.720
an argument for that. Wild magic is hard to explain,

178
00:13:16.799 --> 00:13:19.919
he continues. It's not like what you see in movies.

179
00:13:20.399 --> 00:13:24.440
There's no spells, no wands, no controlling it. It's more

180
00:13:24.480 --> 00:13:27.879
like a force, the thing that makes life insist on itself,

181
00:13:28.440 --> 00:13:32.200
the way flowers push through concrete, the way forests regrow

182
00:13:32.240 --> 00:13:37.039
after fires, life refusing to be contained. And you think

183
00:13:37.080 --> 00:13:43.000
that's what's happening to me, some kind of force. I

184
00:13:43.000 --> 00:13:46.039
think it's always been in you. He turns to look

185
00:13:46.039 --> 00:13:50.159
at me, and his eyes are dark serious. Some people

186
00:13:50.200 --> 00:13:53.879
carry it, most of them never know. It stays dormant,

187
00:13:54.159 --> 00:13:58.360
never gets triggered. But sometimes something wakes it up, and

188
00:13:58.399 --> 00:14:02.200
when it does, it wants to grow. The flowers are

189
00:14:02.279 --> 00:14:09.000
just how it's expressing itself. That's insane, probably, he almost smiles.

190
00:14:09.639 --> 00:14:11.679
But you're sitting next to a trail of flowers that

191
00:14:11.720 --> 00:14:14.720
grew from your shadow, So I'm not sure insane is

192
00:14:14.759 --> 00:14:19.039
a useful metric right now? He has a point. Why

193
00:14:19.080 --> 00:14:23.799
can you see them? I ask my assistant couldn't. No

194
00:14:23.840 --> 00:14:28.799
one else has reacted because I carry it too. He

195
00:14:28.879 --> 00:14:32.440
holds up his hand palm facing the garden, and I watch.

196
00:14:33.840 --> 00:14:36.519
I watch as a dead twig on the ground near

197
00:14:36.519 --> 00:14:41.600
his feet suddenly sprouts leaves, fresh green growth erupting from

198
00:14:41.679 --> 00:14:45.360
dry wood in seconds. It's been ten years for me.

199
00:14:46.080 --> 00:14:50.639
I've learned to live with it. Mostly. I stare at

200
00:14:50.639 --> 00:14:54.039
the twig, at the impossible leaves, at this man who

201
00:14:54.120 --> 00:14:58.480
apparently shares my impossible condition. What triggered yours?

202
00:14:58.799 --> 00:14:59.279
I ask?

203
00:15:00.120 --> 00:15:05.120
His face changes, Something shutters behind his eyes, a fire.

204
00:15:05.320 --> 00:15:08.639
He says, I died in it. When I came back,

205
00:15:09.080 --> 00:15:14.519
I came back different. He stands, abruptly, brushing off his jeans. Look,

206
00:15:15.279 --> 00:15:18.480
this isn't a conversation to have in one sitting. There's

207
00:15:18.519 --> 00:15:20.559
a lot to explain, and you're not going to believe

208
00:15:20.600 --> 00:15:22.960
most of it. And the Gala is in three weeks,

209
00:15:23.240 --> 00:15:25.720
and you have a job to do. I can't just

210
00:15:25.759 --> 00:15:29.320
ignore this, no, But you also can't skip the next

211
00:15:29.320 --> 00:15:32.639
three weeks of your life to figure it out. He

212
00:15:32.679 --> 00:15:35.879
pulls a card from his pocket, plain white, just his

213
00:15:36.039 --> 00:15:41.639
name and a phone number, no company logo. Call me tonight, tomorrow,

214
00:15:41.759 --> 00:15:45.960
whenever you're ready. We'll talk more. I take the card.

215
00:15:46.519 --> 00:15:50.159
My hands are still shaking. Why are you helping me?

216
00:15:51.840 --> 00:15:54.679
He looks at me for a long moment. There's something

217
00:15:54.720 --> 00:16:00.720
in his expression, sadness maybe, or recognition, something I don't

218
00:16:00.720 --> 00:16:03.879
have a name for. Because I spent years thinking I

219
00:16:03.960 --> 00:16:07.320
was alone in this, he says, and I know how

220
00:16:07.320 --> 00:16:11.559
that feels. He walks back to his truck, and I

221
00:16:11.600 --> 00:16:15.919
watch him go, the card pressed between my fingers behind

222
00:16:15.960 --> 00:16:19.440
me in the greenhouse, my shadow flowers are still blooming,

223
00:16:20.320 --> 00:16:23.440
and somewhere deep inside, in a place I've spent thirty

224
00:16:23.559 --> 00:16:47.399
years trying to forget exists, something is waking up. That night,

225
00:16:47.480 --> 00:16:51.000
I go home to an apartment full of flowers. They're everywhere,

226
00:16:51.720 --> 00:16:54.879
growing from the cracks in the hardwood, climbing the walls,

227
00:16:55.320 --> 00:17:00.000
spreading across surfaces that should be sterile and bare minimum.

228
00:17:00.000 --> 00:17:03.480
Tiss Sanctuary has become a greenhouse, a riot of color

229
00:17:03.519 --> 00:17:08.119
and life and chaos. I stand in the doorway, keys

230
00:17:08.160 --> 00:17:12.279
in hand, and I feel something crack inside me. This

231
00:17:12.440 --> 00:17:14.839
is what I was afraid of. This is what I've

232
00:17:14.880 --> 00:17:19.599
always been afraid of, the mess. I can't control the wildness.

233
00:17:19.599 --> 00:17:22.839
I can't contain the part of me that was always

234
00:17:22.880 --> 00:17:28.759
too much, too loud, too alive. I was seven years

235
00:17:28.759 --> 00:17:31.720
old when my mother first locked herself in her bedroom

236
00:17:31.759 --> 00:17:35.039
to get away from me. I was crying about something

237
00:17:36.000 --> 00:17:39.400
I don't even remember what, and she just couldn't take it.

238
00:17:41.079 --> 00:17:45.000
You're exhausting, she said through the door. You're too much.

239
00:17:45.440 --> 00:17:49.880
Why can't you just be normal? So I learned. I

240
00:17:49.960 --> 00:17:54.240
learned to be quiet. I learned to be contained. I

241
00:17:54.319 --> 00:17:56.720
learned to make myself small enough that no one would

242
00:17:56.759 --> 00:18:00.200
ever need to lock a door against me again. And

243
00:18:00.279 --> 00:18:05.079
now this now, flowers growing from my shadow, now an

244
00:18:05.119 --> 00:18:08.759
apartment overrun with proof that the thing I've been suppressing

245
00:18:08.880 --> 00:18:13.759
is still alive, still demanding space, still refusing to stay buried.

246
00:18:14.680 --> 00:18:19.079
I should call Roman, I should ask for help. Instead,

247
00:18:19.480 --> 00:18:23.440
I close the door, walk to my bedroom, stepping over vines,

248
00:18:23.799 --> 00:18:27.160
pushing past blooms, and I lie down on my bed,

249
00:18:27.640 --> 00:18:31.079
surrounded by flowers that smell like spring and chaos and

250
00:18:31.200 --> 00:18:37.920
everything I've ever been afraid of. Tomorrow I'll figure this out. Tomorrow,

251
00:18:38.160 --> 00:18:43.240
I'll make a plan tonight, I just let the wildness

252
00:18:43.279 --> 00:18:43.519
grow