Remember the line of Atticus Finch

and so, as you draw closer to one, you will draw further from me

not because that one and I are at different ends of the spectrum, but precisely the opposite: you want us both to take up the same space. water willingly flows when truth is present, but friendship does not gain with deceit

a glass
placed on the surface of a wooden table. water fills up a space that was initially empty in the glass; at the same time the water is not the glass and cannot fill up the space the solid has.

and so
there is no longer an effort to turn the water into glass. there can no longer be water brimming over, no longer enough to make contact with the varnished wood, no longer flowing in that space.

part of it is void. bereft. the glass will be half full.

then reading the portion half empty, I come to understand, and thank God for it all. that which I might have been under, had you told the truth. how life wilts in the dark. how life dies when given stagnant water.

amazing. after the storm, the dark, the struggle, is peace. there is no longer the bitterness with words, no longer the attempt to suppress.
merely
simply
a glass half-full.
there it is.
on the table.
no shaking, no spilling, no more, no less. and even, the joy in knowledge of My Lord's care.

the other speaks of space. breathing space; and in me there is no sadistic laughter at other's pain, no futile wishing to be in the space, no jealous accusation that the space was mine (how childish the word 'mine'!)
no longer oh how much a blessing it is how long it has been the freedom is great acceptance and peace!

may you have the other half of the puzzle, for then the whole is clear. without it these words remain half-empty glasses.