fishes in the sea

Daily Planners

Daily planner from @arystudies​

Today’s hustle planners from @theparisiandreamer 

Daily printable from @aescademic​

Daily planner from @theorganisedstudent​

Get yo’ shit together from @studyforgreatness​

Daily planner from @paperclipsandotherthings​

Weekly Planners

Weekly planner v.2 from @cofene​

Weekly planner printables from @lazyhermione​

Weekly planning printables from @marveloustudies​

Weekly planners from @intellectus​ 

Peek at the week

Weekly planner from @butteredcoffeeandloosepages​ 

Monday-start weekly planner from @simplifiedstudying​

Calendars

Fall 2016 calendars from @arystudies​

2016 calendars from @studyearlgrey​

Free 2016 planner from @muna-mm-mi​

2016 at a glance

2016 monthly planners from @theorganisedstudent​

To Do Lists

To-Do lists from @apricot-studies​

Weekly to-do’s vers.2 from @studeying​

Tic tac toe to-do’s

Daily to-do’s

Too many to-do’s

Daily to-do lists

Study Printables

Note-taking printable from @studyvet​

Back to school printables from @lycheestudy​

Organic printables from @helicion​

English printables from @intellectus​ (#spon!)

Quarter at a glance from @youbutterstudy​

Note taking printables from @strive-for-da-best​

Definition of terms from @thearialligraphyproject​

Finals study plan from @collegeruled 

Note taking printables from @helicion​ 

Amazing Printable Creators 

arystudies’ printables tag

cmpsbls’ printables page

thearialligraphy’s printables page

helicion’s printables page

theorganisedstudent’s printables page

strive-for-da-best’s printables page

Other

School supply list cards from @intellectus​ (#spon)

Go to sleep printables from @educatier​

Binder inserts from @golddotsandtatertots​

2016 planner printables masterpost from @marias-studyblr​

Habit tracker from @mincrvas​

Binder label printables from @code-bug​

ii. “At what speed must I live, to be able to see you again?”

iii. We were inseparable once, I recall. We left no space in between even for breathing, smashed into each other like tectonic plates as if being linked wasn’t ever, ever enough. We overlap so much the line that separated you and I became blurred, and since then nobody could mention one’s name without immediately mentioning the other. Romeo and Juliet. Bonnie and Clyde. Over and over again.

iv. We got so tired of defining one with the other but we didn’t want to let go, either.

v. “You’d find your way back to me, won’t you?”  "There isn’t really any other way for me except back here."

That was eight months before I last saw you.

vi. If people also drifted apart 5 centimeters per second, then by the time we gave up, you and I had already been approximately 1,036.8 kilometers away. 

the ghost of your breath on my neck. too often, I dream of hands. hands that do not know what to do with themselves. even after all their learning, they have not yet grown accustomed to it all. the emptiness. their lack of weight, and their constant desire to hold.

I look for you in the strangest of places, and yet most days, I find you hiding elsewhere. your name shows up in my forearms, wanting to be spoken. taunting, say it. say it out loud. as if speaking it would close the distance, as if a paper cup attached with a string to another paper cup would allow you to hear the faintest whisper of my heart saying, ‘I love you,’ many times. each one, sounding like a prayer, “please please look at me, look at me, love me back.”

I have spent so many years writing about boys who will never spare me a glance. and also quite a few years writing about boys I’ve hurt for writing about boys who will never love me back. it is too easy to imagine us together, holding, filling each other’s empty spaces with all that we could afford to give. so I imagine the opposite. with you, holding another woman’s hand, touching knees with her under the dinner table. someone else peeling an apple with a knife. someone else, taking a photograph of the way you smile. someone else, reading you poetry.

Someday I will see you and not feel the urge to burn and flame like the stars we used to name after each other; and eventually they, too, will die out the same way I will forget how you look like.

But dearest, someday our love will be reborn and take the shape  of someone new; and when we do, remember how we sank because we didn’t  know how else to drown—

You ask me what I like about you and I’m immediately forming a grocery list of every single part of your body. I want your hair, your teeth, the curve of your mouth when you bite my back. I used to tell my mother I wanted to be torn apart by you, because Rilke once wrote that a person can be destroyed again and again until there’s nothing left to do the destroying. Mars is slowly spiraling away from us at the rate of 2 centimeters per year. Make love to me that gently.

But here’s what I’ve got, why I knew when I first saw you: you peeled oranges with your fingers and ate the peels instead of the segments. I’m burning up for your body like a cigarette and there’s no one left to inhale. I’m dying; I’m cancer and you’re my endlessly multiplying cells. The milkman left three full crates on the back porch yesterday and I drank eight bottles straight down without wincing. You make me believe in being sober again. I’ll throw away the whiskey for you. I’ll stage a seance in the backyard and light a ring of candles for every wine glass left unfilled.

Because you touch me gently, but violently when I want you to. You’re always violent when you’re tender and tender when you’re violent. Love me. God, in middle school I used to sit in that tiny desk and my heart was bursting out of my throat like a grenade and you were just sitting there, inches away from me, your back turned, your hair just touching the back of your collar, your hands, your bones, your fingers, and the teacher was always saying your name, she was endlessly saying your name, and I was always repeating it in my head with her.

We’re crosses and we’re nailing ourselves to them and letting ourselves bleed. You unzip my skin as softly as a hummingbird and unpeel me in strips like an onion, hold my bones to the light. Take your microscope and reveal every part of me. Study me, I want your eyes all over me.

Because the first time we kissed it was in a car in December and your body was cold like a morgue and I felt every dead body beneath us rock when our mouths met. I’m climbing out of every grave I ever dug for myself just to get to you. Be my Dante, my Picasso, my Jack Gilbert. Be my antidepressants. Fuck Prozac; I want you.

The first time I went to therapy the doctor recommended a daily dosage of pills but I went home and loved you instead. You’re my cure. You’re the anchor that pulls me up from under when I want to fill my pockets with stones and left myself drown. My father said he loved me more than the moon; I love you more than the moon and the earth and all the stars combined. There are 245,000,363 of them. I love you more than that.

The tectonic plates are pulling away from each other at the rate of 1 inch per year, and I’m trying to glue them back together with my bare hands so we don’t get separated. This is my excavation. This is my unearthing. Your skin, your skin. You’ve left me paralyzed without a wheelchair and I can’t move. When we’re at cocktail parties I always catch your glance across the room and you’re the only one that exists. Let’s go up to the bedroom so I can fall asleep next to you. We’re both drunk as hell. I’m addicted to you and I take it back: I don’t want to get sober.

In pottery class in college I sculpted a clay bowl and spun it on that wheel like an angel. I’m unraveling, for you. Pull me apart like a ball of yarn.

This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar on your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you.

And I will not be afraid of your scars.

I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.”