Honesty...

Sometimes I feel like my heart has been scattered in a thousand tiny pieces to the four winds, and I can't find it again to put it back together. Imagine a fragile icicle, just a tiny drip off of someone's roof in the wintertime. The temperature dips well below freezing, and the icicle becomes hard and brittle. Now imagine a north wind, so strong that it knocks the little icicle off, shattering it and dispersing the tiny shards wherever the wind goes. That's the way my heart feels like right now.
That's incredibly depressing, I know, and I hate to be depressing in public! Still, no one reads this except for my brother, and blunt honesty has become one of my bad habits. Besides, writing is such a healing activity.
I wonder how many people feel like this. I'm sure that everyone must at some time. Someone I knew once told me that he never really has a bad day. I have to wonder at people like that. Are they really being honest?
I wonder - when we all pretend to be moved by the worship in chapel, but in reality only one person actually saw a tiny glimpse of God's presence - I wonder what would happen if we were honest with God and each other. I wish I could find out! However, society is based on acceptable norms, and honesty just doesn't seem to fit with what we perceive as appropriate.
Back to my shattered heart... I know someday I will find it again. The first step is being honest with myself. My ego tells my id some pretty slick lies, and it becomes difficult to distinguish the truth. I want to spend every day creeping a little bit closer to reality, to the truth that's waiting for me somewhere - maybe in the same location that my lost heart is.