Spent the afternoon helping my grandma with her garden, and she taught me the names of all her roses. There’s something so grounding about dirt under your nails and the way she still calls me ‘her sweet boy’ like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s a quiet kind of love that doesn’t need a stage or an audience—just a sunny afternoon and someone who sees you.

Makes me think about the spaces where we don’t have to perform. Where we can just… be. That’s the real magic.

Also, I may have bought three new plants on the way home. My partner is going to side-eye me so hard when they see the windowsill. 💐✨