You could see where you were, but not feel it. It was light, so you should've felt warm, but you didn't. It had shadows on the edges, or at least one edge, so you shouldn't have felt alone, but you did. And then you gave your sight away, just a loan.
Blinded, blindsighted, blind now, you put your hands out in front of you - to feel your way around, high heels on cobblestones. Predictably, you trip and cut yourself. You bleed, it's for real this time, nothing honeyed. You wish its stickiness away.
What else is in that wish?