half-full

 

 via

even though we swore up and down that we weren't going to give each other gifts for christmas because we took our trip the week before the holidays, my sneaky husband got me a new cd player for my car. mainly for me, but a little bit for him, because every time we rode in my car we had to play either the radio or a CD from the 1990s, because the player stopped reading new discs.

with this newfound player, i have discovered the joy of hooking up my phone--oh the pandora mornings! as i drove into work, i played my favorite ingrid michaelson station, and "giving up" came on right as i entered onto the highway, saying a prayer for a clear lane.

and this line: i am giving up on half-empty glasses stuck out, clear and big as the billboards on the roadside.

i am giving up

on half-empty 

glasses.

i'm giving up on the negativity. on the worries. on the little defeats that threaten to upset a day. on the nights where it just feels better to get in bed at eight than stay up and make the hard day any longer. on the rude tones, drivers, and restaurant patrons.

this notion of giving it all up, relinquishing that suffocating, tightening, destroying control is such a beautiful thought to me. i don't have to even look at the thing anymore.

and maybe i'll put a half-full one in its place, or maybe i won't. maybe i'll just drink the dang water and forget about the philosophical strings tied to it. let it slip deep down and nourish. fill me up enough until i'm the glass. because there's a vessel inside each of us and i'm giving up the empty parts in exchange for the hope that maybe, just maybe, there's enough full to last for today.