If I stepped outside the front door to my house, only to discover that the entire universe had disappeared overnight, save me, well, it might not be such a bad thing, you know? What have I really got to lose? There's Máire, my sort-of best friend, but she believes in multiple dimensions and could traverse through one to enter into this newfound nothingness. If she wanted, that is. Not that it would be much different than living alone; we already isolate ourselves from the rest of the world, even each other at times, and maybe Máire is impassable to that sort of thing. She doesn't feel the same as everybody else, doesn't want a relationship, or... sex.
So all in all it would be a lonely sort of existence. Never having knowledge beyond the fact that once I open my door, all other forms of life are cut off. That although I have the ability to create, to inspire, there is nobody to impress it upon. Maybe it's good for some things, like what the doctors refer to as my "misguided passion", but is really just resentment. There wouldn't be anyone to project it on to.
It has nothing to do with past or present, the resentment. It's this overwhelming emptiness, the void, the same one I dream will some day become a reality. Positive that if it wasn't for Máire, who occasionally steps outside of her own private refuge long enough to listen, it would be my life.
I am a nonentity.