Floored by Freshly Pressed


Dear Followers and Friends,

It is strange to address a letter/post on this site to you instead of him as every post I’ve written thus far is not only for Johnny but to him as well.  When I started this blog, I didn’t even know how blogs worked; I just wanted to create a secret space where I could anonymously express my feelings and to write him out of my system.  I have only been blogging for about six weeks, and I’m still learning and discovering the power of reading so many words ripped from the throats, hearts, dreams of so many strangers.  I am floored by the amount of wonderful feedback and visitors I’ve had to my “anonymous” site.

I never thought of myself as a writer.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always liked to write, loved to, really, but I’m more of an academic writer and a teacher of writing rather than an essayist or author.  This blog is my reintroduction to writing the poetic form, and I’m in love with it! This means, new readers, that you may have to endure a rolling feed of my, at times, mediocre metaphors and similes.

As for Impossibly Blue–I wrote this post according to the rules of the challenge (well, almost).  It took me 12 minutes instead of 10, but I didn’t edit or revise.  I closed my eyes and let the images flow from my memory and out my fingers.  I had no intent with this post except to meet the requirements of the challenge and do the best I could.  I like the post, but, probably like most writers, it feels unfinished.  I’ve been attempting to write many of the moments I spent with Johnny because I feel like it might help me get over losing him.  It’s been so long that it seems like moving forward would be simple, but it is not.  He told me once, “moving on is something you do when you get too old to change things.” I don’t know if I agree with that.  I feel like you can change something every day, and the time to change is when you are no longer happy.  I’m still learning this and attempting to practice it.  I remember hearing his voice when he said those words to me–as if he were forcing them from his lips in hopes that saying them would make him believe.  That gives me faith that one day we can stop worrying about what the world might think and instead hold tight to the fullness of our hearts when we are together.

To all of my “Before Freshly Pressed” followers–Thank you so much for finding and reading my blog.  I have never felt such a strong connection with anonymous voices before, and I appreciate all of your kind words and abundance of likes.

To all of my new followers/readers–Thank you for visiting my blog and enjoying my small story.  I hope you like what else I have to say, and I look forward to exploring all of your sites.

As for me, I’ll keep posting, but school starts soon and a teacher’s work is never done. I may post less frequently, but I hope not because I so enjoy digging through my emotions, my mind, my vocabulary to find the precise word to express what I’m thinking.  I sometimes wonder, especially after being Freshly Pressed, how anonymous I will stay.  I wonder if, somewhere in the Florida heat, Johnny might be reading me and finally opening his heart again to possibility.

Thank you all so much,



16 thoughts on “Floored by Freshly Pressed

  1. Just some thoughts on loss – in true sense, we never lose the ones we dearly love: sometimes in our memories, often in our thoughts, somewhere in our tears, at times in our smiles, a part of them sticks. That is the true magic of love and in my opinion, our true purpose to live this life. Wishing you the best – cherish that it happened and made you strong to love someone with all your might.

    Once again congrats! It was well deserved.:)


    • Thank you so much for those inspired words. His love did make me stronger then, and my memories continue to do so each day. I cherish, every day, my experiences with him, and I carry him with me always. Thanks again for reading!


  2. Freshly Pressed is an overwhelming experience! I only had mine the other week and I’m still reeling from the staggering amount of traffic it’s generated – but wow, it’s amazing. Well done you – always good to here of someone finding a positive experience in the “World Of Blog”. 🙂


    • Thanks! It’s extremely overwhelming especially because I never really expected to be chosen out of so many phenomenal blogs out there. I’m excited for more traffic! Just hope I can keep up. I feel a bit more pressure than I did before because it seems so many more eyes will be reading, but I’ll do my best to not let that cloud my writing. Thanks again! 🙂


  3. Congratulations on being Freshly Pressed! That’s how I came across your blog, and I’m very glad I did. Your letters are touching and admittedly pretty heartbreaking. I’m now following you and your beautiful words, but do not try and tailor your writing due to the added pressure of the extreme traffic you are probably receiving. Keep doing exactly what you’re doing because it’s wonderful.


    • I’m so glad you connect to my letters. Thank you for reading and following. The increased traffic is definitely overwhelming. I’ve been posting several times a day, usually, since I started my blog, but I feel nervous now about writing. I’m dedicating some time tonight to get something down. Thanks for your comment and support. 🙂


    • Thank you! I was totally surprised by it. It was the first time I responded to a weekly writing prompt on The Daily Post, and they picked it. It was and is amazing! Keep writing because you have an incredible talent. They will see it eventually!


      • Thanks a lot! And you know, because of this post, I’m checking out the weekly writing challenge on The Daily post now haha… I’m not really interested, though (can’t find what to write based on the picture). So maybe next week. You inspire me, Patience! :p


      • I’ve been trying to find one I connect with since I started blogging. The one I wrote that was Freshly Pressed was my first and only try, but I keep checking hoping I find another one that inspires me. I hope you find one to respond to also. You inspire me, Elia!


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