Cold is quite hard to overcome. The fastest way to warm up, and the most commonly seen in survival guides is skin to skin contact. Touches may seem harmless, however without touch for centuries, the feeling is crippling; prune from the ages of pure frost. The physicalities convert into mental stimulation and suffering, within seconds of the unconcious associations. Such quick-thinking may be a blessing but the fact is its also juxtaposed. The faint uredo of a hug never leaves my skin. A gentle handshake burns my nerves beyond frostbite. The pain of touching someone- someone you cant trust. I long for touch. A comfortable soft touch, of someone that has only that of geniune interest and safety. La douleur exquise stops that. Never before have I more desired to simply hold that hand and purr as I rub, smile on his shoulder, laying my weary head to rest. Oh how I would love to find comfort for once however my serenity is a taboo amongst the impossible.