Not in the sense of "OMG I don't know how I'd live wivout ya!", which is silly and nobody over the mental age of ten should be allowed actually to mean - it's OK as a hyperbolic joke, but said coolly is one of the scariest things that I think can be said, because I've seen what happens - my maternal grandmother, for example - to people who really can't live without someone (in her case my grandfather: mean, foul, persnickety bastard that he was, apparently, at least by his daughters' recounting).
Put bluntly: one of my needs, and it's a big one, is to be valued by people for what I can do for them. Take away that aspect of utility, and I feel, literally, worthless. And yet I have no idea of what I can do now that would make me valuable. I know that there's so much I can do: I'm not bragging when I say that there are some things that I'm deeply clever at. There were times when people would say "Let's get Kay in on this: we need his touch." That's how I got roped in to the research team at VIDe: they needed, wanted me. And that's what led to the ultimate disillusion: when protocol and seniority oozed in through the cracks to contaminate a damn fine team and I had to begin to "behave like a graduate student", not someone who had some of the best insights, the best strategies, the most useful skills there and spend most of my time licking the arses of people whose brains I wouldn't waste spit on. Yes, if you like, I'm arrogant, but that's a matter of knowing my worth. I'm damn good at what I do.
Now I'm stuck with this stupid broken body and I've got nothing to do but amuse myself until I die.