My feet are cold. No, I’m not anxious or rethinking something major. My feet are literally cold. They’re currently white and although I keep tucking them up to touch the warmer parts of my leg, they’re still frozen. I wear thick socks but somehow the cold still seeps through. Even in the summertime, the air-con slowly sucks all heat from my feet and requires me to wear hiking socks indoors. I know this is dumb – a post about how cold my feet are. But I think we all know what this is about to turn into.
I remember the very first night I found myself in someone’s bed, nearly four years ago. We were going to attempt to steam things up by relocating to the shower, however, I got cold. As usual. Two years later, whenever he used to slide into bed next to me, my feet would brush up against him and he’d shriek. As I tossed and turned all night, he would always make sure that all of me was covered by the duvet. He would tuck my frozen toes in between his calves, even though I could feel the cold radiating off of them. When we were separated, he would always promise to catch up on warming me and my feet.
But now, it’s winter. Winter is coming and my feet are cold.Sure, there have been other foot warmers, thicker socks, boots, my own legs. But it’s not the same. The loss of him, the hiatus of his presence in my life, has left me feeling emptier and colder than ever. And I don’t know how to keep warm. I may just freeze.