Today,
I just finished two seasons of Ginny & Georgia.
and I don’t know,
sometimes I feel like Ginny,
sometimes I feel like Georgia.
like a daughter, unseen, misunderstood,
or a young mom,
fighting silent battles just to protect the ones she loves.
but you know what?
at least Ginny had Marcus and Hunter.
Hunter, who truly loved her.
and Marcus, who knew her, stayed with her,
saw the wreckage and still chose to stay.
there was this scene,
Ginny told Marcus she couldn't trust anyone,
because Georgia, her own mother, once warned her:
"Don’t trust anyone. Especially a man."
but Marcus, broken in his own ways,
held space for her pain, and chose not to walk away.
and that’s the tragedy, isn’t it?
I don’t have a Marcus or a Hunter.
or even a Georgia.
each day I wake up,
facing everything alone, learning not to rely on anyone,
not because I want to,
but because every time I try to show who I really am,
every time I open up even just a little, they all leave.
Not even stay.
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