It's good to contemplate the alternatives: for instance, not everyone has what it takes to be a loner.
If someone were to sneak up on one, who had come to terms with a life of mediocrity, shine a light into corners of his home which only served to show him how life might be otherwise, without his being given a chance to trace the light to its source, let alone to begin to fathom its properties, it might be possible that the loner begins to think of other ways of spending eternity.
A person who is counting the number of years he has left to live is unlikely to remain a loner (unless he believes in beers in heaven).
Fridges are not built for loners: they're either family-sized or only fit for keeping one's beers cold.
I had, once upon a time, dreamt about the day I'd have reason to replace my bar-fridge with a family-sized fridge.
I did, once upon a time, buy myself a family-sized fridge because I no longer saw the condition of being a loner as a disadvantage at all.
The fridge is still running, and most people, I gather, are wondering why I'm stuck in the past.
So am I.