Day 15. Nothing to say.

I feel so numb right now. I got to see Eric tonight, so you'd think I'd be happy but I literally feel like I'm going to throw up.

Everything was okay until R decided he wanted to talk. He apologized for being an asshole (see previous entry), but I don't know how much of that to believe. He promised he'd try to start trusting me and listening to me; but I honestly can't believe that.

A little background here. He's never trusted me. In anything. Not even necessarily because I did anything, but just... because. Don't get me wrong. I had my moments. I'm not perfect. I'll never claim to be. He's just not a trusting person, by nature. Neither am I, really, but where he never trusts, I start off a little too trusting and then just wait for "you" to screw up. That particular tendency has only been expounded upon because of R's habit of doing exactly that. He'll start off okay, but then he "wakes up" or what have you, and he's right back to being the worst kind of ass. Emotionally, verbally, and mentally abusive; he knows just where to hit me to hurt the worst, and he's not afraid to wield that particular blade.

Yet, for some stupid reason, I still continue to hope and believe that he can be better. I have to. We have Boogie. So, of course, I always end up getting hurt. And yes, I know, there are those of you probably thinking, "Well, dumbass, stop falling for it," and I even know I should. But I just want him to be better so badly. I want to know, I suppose, that I wasn't a complete idiot for falling in love with this man. That there is, somewhere, a redeeming quality in him that I can point out and say, "see! That! That right there! That's why I keep doing it! That's why I keep my faith in him!" ....

But... this time... I just can't. I can't believe him. I can't even muster up enough... desire to believe him. It's like... I've finally given up on him. I'm tired of being kicked around just because I'm not good enough for him. I never was, and I never will be. He still expects me to be Person A; and maybe I am, but if so, it's not because of him. And what I'm scared of, is what happens when he realizes that I'm not that person? That I'm really Person... F? What will happen then?

Will he go off the deep end again? Will I end up having every thing thrown in my face again? All my short comings. My failures. My "not enough"s. Will he keep me from Boogie again? I don't know anymore; and that's honestly what petrifies me the most.


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In other, more productive news. I have an interview for the Disney store tomorrow at 1330. I put in an application for "Public Safety Dispatcher" here in town, and filled out to join the "Uniformed Patrol" for the next town over and the county. I'm excited to see where these will go. I found out what the physical requirements are for the PD, so I'm going to strive to reach those goals. Partly for the job, mostly for me. It's time to start taking my life back in my hands.

One day at a time.

Day 12 part 2. Is it illegal if you aren't caught?

So, I started today in a good mood. Then I made the mistake of asking R if I could take Boogie out tomorrow. Now he's saying that I won't be allowed to see him unless R is present.

Okay... I get that I screwed up. I really do. And I don't even blame him for being so protective; but this is getting ridiculous. He's keeping me from Boogie, knowing I'm fully capable of taking care of my son; knowing full well that I'm not a "flight risk" or anything stupid. He knows how I feel about fathers being present in their childrens' lives. For the record, I've even volunteered to have other people with me and Boogie. As in, other supervision. I just don't want to be around R.

Yet he's trying to say that I "fucked up" my "one chance" by going to hang out with some friends because I had a couple beers, that were already at the house. Really? Does this make sense to anyone else?

Let me state again. I am willing to tolerate supervised visits as long as it's not R, because I already know that if I have to wait on him, than I'd hardly see Eric. Which is counterproductive to all of this. He's refusing to let me because I hung out with some friends (and if my mother ALSO told him WHO it was, than I'm pretty sure that's playing a factor) which, somehow, translates into me not caring about my son.

If someone can explain this logic to me, please feel free to do so.

My life in other peoples' words. Day 12 (technically)

You know, every once in a while, my boss shares a moment of clarity with me that just astounds me. Like today, he showed me the "inspirational speech" from Rocky Balboa.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NNQ0xO3_kk&feature=fvst

It seems silly to me, but, on some level, it hits pretty close to home. No pun intended.

I've been through a lot of hard hits lately, but... I'll make it through them. I'll get through all this. And somehow, I will find a way to find myself again.

So for today's epiphany, and, R, if you're reading this, which I doubt, but it still tickles me to think you might be, this is just for you:

YOU ARE NOT MY ICE CREAM TRUCK!!!

And for those of you wondering what the hell I'm even talking about, I highly suggest you check out the program, "Love is Evol" by Christopher Titus. It's pretty f'ing epic. 



On a side note. I've got a couple of new photo shoots in the works for this coming month that I'm super psyched about. Can't wait to show them off for ya'll. ^.^

Enjoy your week boys and girls.  

How do I get through it? Day 10

No, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you. I did rename the journal, and I did start keeping track of days. Not sure why yet. Just seemed the right thing to do.

Went for a run today. Through Overton Park first with Hanna, but then through the Central Park here in town. Not a good idea. I ran into R and someone who used to be my best friend, but because of my notoriously big mouth, we hardly talk anymore. Anyway. I didn't even realize it was them; I was just walking to my car to cool off and came up behind them on the trail. Bear called out to me, but it still took a second to register. Then I realized who it was and .... I've never felt more like an intruder.

I can't help feeling like it should have been me there with them, not her. Like she was the intruder. In my spot. But that's not the case anymore, I suppose. Everything was okay for a while, but I kept waiting for what I knew was coming, and, of course, it did.

They eventually had to go, and it hurt so much to have to give Boogie over to R. He kept holding on to me tighter and tighter every time I tried to pull him off. What hurt the most, though, was that it hardly even fazed Bear. He's already used to all this.

On top of this, R and I had another of our "moments of weakness" as I've come to call them. We start off talking, and we do, to some extent, but then he tries to comfort me, and for some stupid reason, I let him. One thing leads to another, and the next day, I'm left wondering how long it'll be before he's accusing me (yet again) of just "playing" with him or, my personal favorite, of just "manipulating" him. Dude, you asked to hold me. Not the other way around. So, as I wrote in my journal yesterday, "his starting out 'comforting' me turned into another round of angry 'I still hate you' sex disguised as 'let's make it better'... So he'll end up angry at me again and we'll be right back to where we started."

So how do I get through all this? How do I get through ... not knowing when I'm going to be able to see my babies again? How do I get through not knowing how long this seemingly amicable attitude toward me is going to last? How do I get through not knowing when my screw up is going to come back to bite me in the ass?

One day at a time, I suppose.

Today's Smut

So, occasionally, I get silly and write some random little smutty story. I'm not particularly a genius, but I'm not terrible, I think. I mean, I get myself hot off my stories, so they can't be that bad, right? Anyway, here's my newest venture.


Just Another Notch

We watch each other from across the bar. He smiles, I nod. The game is on. I watch him over the rim of my glass as he walks over. So cocky. So Sure of himself. 'This is going to be good' I think to myself. There's no subtlety to this one. He walks over and immediately places his hand on my thigh. His breath is warm in my ear and I have to catch myself from shivering. "Eyes like yours should only be on one person," he says. I can't help but smirk as I meet his gaze. I've gotta admit. I like that cockiness. He'll do.

I don't bother answering verbally. I can tell I've surprised him as I raise my hand to slowly trace across the front of his pants. I hear his breath hiss in my ear and I reach to gently nip at his. Better make sure he's the right type. Just as I thought: his grip on my thigh tightens and I hear him moan.

Thirty minutes later, we're back at his place. HIs hands are all over my body. Scratching, groping, holding me tighter to him every time I even try to pull away. He's doing well, this one. He doesn't ask questions. Just takes charge. 'Good boy'.

I grab a handful of his hair and pull his head back away from my chest. I'm not gentle. He just growls and squeezes my ass even harder where he's got me pinned against the wall. As punishment, he bites the top of my breast. My breath escapes in one long hiss and I throw my head back. 'Oh yes. You'll do nicely'.

Buttons pop as I tear the shirt from his chest. He lets me down just long enough to yank my dress over my head. Surprisingly, he pauses to take time to look at me in my thigh-highs, garter belt, and pumps. He looks like a kid at Christmas when he sees the distinct lack of either a bra or panties. 'ho ho ho'. He wastes no time, just gets on his knees and crawls over to me. I must admit, I'm a little taken back by the submissiveness, but it's only an act. As soon as he reaches me, he grabs my ass in both hands and dives right in. I have to catch myself on the wall. He's even better than I thought. I may have to reconsider this one.

I can't hold back the moan as he slides first two then three fingers inside me. His devouring me like I'm his last meal and every time I start to move, he slaps my ass with his free hand - hard. I love it. Then, as if he knows I'm about to cum, he releases me so quickly I fall back against the wall. His pants are already down by the time I realize what he's doing, and even faster than that, he has me on my knees, one hand at the back of my head, the other guiding his very impressive cock into my mouth. I almost don't think I can take this one, but I still manage to. Thankfully.

God, he tastes so good. I start thinking I may be the lucky one as he forces me onto him faster and faster, his breath coming out in soft grunts. Normally, I'd have taken over by this point, but I don't even mind it with him. I try to reach my hand up, but every time, he slaps them back down. I know he's getting close, though, and sure enough, he pulls out of my mouth and I can't believe myself when I let out a little whimper. "Oh, don't you worry. You'll get it back. Now turn around and bend the fuck over." I shiver and feel myself get even wetter at those words. Naturally, I comply.

I feel his hand on my lower back and I watch his face as he guides his cock just to the edge of my pussy, but rather than driving it home like I want him to, he slides the head between my lips and slowly starts rubbing my clit with it. Then he moves it even faster, and I'm writhing in pleasure as he starts slapping my clit. I'm so close, I let out a small mew, and I hear him laugh as he pulls back. Only then do I notice the mirror on the wall in front of me. Our eyes meet, and I don't even bother hiding my hunger from him. He leans over my back, his cock rubbing against my clit again, and whispers in my ear, "Say it." I can't even argue at this point. "Fuck me," I beg, "Please, just fuck me." He grins and I let out a soft scream as he shoves his entire length into me in one hard thrust.

There's no teasing or playing now. He's driving it home as hard as he can. It almost hurts, but his fingers rubbing over my clit are bringing all the pleasure right back. He leans back for a second, slows his thrusts down. Inch by inch, he pulls out. His nails are digging into my ass, and I can feel how hard he's trying to hold himself back in the shaking of his knees. He surprises me by slapping my ass and grabbing a hold of it just before he plows into my pussy again.

I can feel my own orgasm building as he pushes harder. My breath is coming out in sharp gasps now, and I glance at his face. He's close too. I reach down to rub myself and he catches my hand to pull it behind my back. "That's my privilege" he growls; and, mercifully, he reaches down to stroke me some more. I can't even hold back the scream as I cum. My knees almost buckle, but he's holding me up by my hips and it doesn't take him long to finish either.

I smile as he slowly lowers us to the bed we never managed to reach. Now the tenderness comes out as he kisses along my back. I roll over to face him and lay there as he slowly falls asleep, a small smile on his face. I almost feel bad as I carefully edge my way off the bed and across the room to retrieve my dress. 'He'd be worth keeping,' I tell myself as I pause to look at him from the doorway.

Ultimately, though, I know. He's just another notch in the belt. So I leave.

Catching up my diary I never write in.

So I have an actual journal, but I hardly ever write in it. Though, in lieu of having a book to read at work, I started writing. So here's my little catch up.


So Boogie's 2nd birthday has come and gone. Everything was all peachy, love, and wonderful. And then R and I got into another of our epic battles about the fact that I want to get into the military to help support my family; but he doesn't want my help. He doesn't want anything to do with me. He doesn't want me to help with the boys. All he kept saying was that he and Weylin aren't my concern anymore. Not my responsibilit. Etc. What he doesn't understand is that I can't just stop caring for them. I can't not care for them. Then again, I suppose I haven't even been.


I pretty much resent all of them. The boys don't deserve it. I love them both. They haven't done anything wrong... I don't know who I'm trying to convince right now.

Logicaly, I know they haven't done anything, but I can't help it.

I still blame R for ruining my life. Before him, I had promise. I had a goal. I knew where I was going. Then I let myself get wrapped up in him. Completely. My life wasn't about me anymore. It was about helping him. Getting him away from his ex. Helping him deal with his family. Then the custody battle for my step son. I gave myself over to him completely.

Then college came around, but I was already pregnant with Eric. And everything became about him. Then we moved and it was all about my family. I've never had a chance to just be me. And that's all I want, damn it! I WANT TO KNOW WHO I AM!!!

...I don't know myself anymore. I'm always someone else's something. R's girlfriend/wife. Boogie's mom. Bear's mom. I'm never just AYLA. Where did I go?! Who am I in all this?!? I had chances to go off and find myself but I was always so worried about everyone else, I never gave myself a chance to find ME!

.... So who am I? Who is Ayla House? ... I never even wanted to take that fucking name. I mean, I did, but I didn't want to put it on my social. I only did that to appease R. Trying to fix our marriage. I wanted to keep my maiden name.

Everything I've done for the last ... going on 5 years now... has been for R and my family. I don't know how to focus on myself. And that may sound funny to some of you. Granted, the people that find that funny most likely aren't reading this. Regardless, there are those out there that would say I'm a little too good at focusing on myself. Maybe I am. I simply don't know anymore.

All I know at this point is that I want my son back. I feel utterly... like a character from the fucking Twilight series. That is to say, utterly devoid of any actual character or substance. I feel so utterly hollow, it's as if I shouldn't even be here. I suppose that's where the problem comes in though. That I don't feel as if I belong here. Maybe I don't. Maybe I should be somewhere else.

My grandparents have a place out in NC now. They've offered to let me stay with them. Maybe I should. Then again, it's more likely that I'd drive myself crazy trying to tolerate them. I love them to death, but they're very set in their ways. Which just so happen to be very different than mine.

But... if things aren't working here - which they obviously aren't - maybe .... maybe removing myself from it all completely would help? I don't even know... Ugh. What do you do when you know you need help, but you don't know what kind?

Maybe I should just go to Addicts Anonymous. "Hello. My name is Ayla, and I'm addicted to.... what?"


~~ So, there's that. My entire journal entry for today. I never said it'd be a lovely thing to read. It was hard to type, honestly. I feel a little better... finally admitting some of that; but it hurts, knowing it's true. Ah well. At least I'm doing it. One day at a time.

Popping the Cherry

So... This, I suppose, is my first post on my Big-girl blog. I honestly don't know what to write. I can already warn you, there are going to be a lot of posts that are going to sound so emo, you'll get sick of me, but on that same token, there'll probably be a lot that sound like I'm on drugs. The good kind. I wish.


I'm only 20, but I already have a 2 year old son that I adore. He's got that perfect blend of both his father's and my looks. Mine are subtler, but they're there if you know what you're looking for. ... There are days I hate that. His father and I are about to go through a divorce. I'm hoping he won't file for full custody, but he says he will. I can't really blame him. I screwed up. Big time.


I suffer from bi-polar disorder. Normally, I can keep it in check; but when I get stressed out (translation: whenever I deal with ex) it can get out of hand. Throw in my own tendency for self-punishment that would make the members of Opus Dei jealous. It gets a little nuts.

So, Wednesday, Ex and I were having another of our famous arguments and I finally snapped. I drove ten hours to the coast with the intention of killing myself, but, thankfully, I got a phone call from just the right person. I'm sure there'll be more to come on him later. He's kinda the basis for a lot of my smut. (Yes, I'm one of those too.)

So, now, I have to focus on getting better for my son. Part of me is so pissed off at all of this, but the logical side of myself knows I need it. It's still hard though, knowing that I'll hardly get to see my son from now on. And that's where this blog comes in, I guess. Just somewhere for me to record all of my angry, hurt, over-emotional, bitchy, spastic, snarky thoughts that I won't get to say in "real" life.

Obviously, it won't ALL be like that, but... well, you know what I mean. Just... be prepared for a lot of cussing. I grew up in a NAVY household. Sarcasm, bullshit, and swearing are three languages I'm FLUENT in.


I guess we'll just see where this goes.