If people who need people are lucky, then I am most lucky. I cannot bear to be alone. Always I must be where the crowd is, where the mood of the moment leaps from person to person in communal experience. Yet some reject this: they stand apart from the group rejecting that sense of belonging that is the group. Too proud or too afraid, it does not matter to me which of these one such claims to be. To me, they are selfish. They withdraw their energy from others, impoverishing the life of the whole. The lone wolf is outcast from the pack, not a rebel to be admired.
I saw him leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his pudgy fingers, a mountain of flesh having grown both up and out until he looked like the baby of a giant. He never went out onto the floor to dance. Occasionally, he nodded his head to the beat of the music. What he did most was study the girls. They are so sexualized, the youth of this era. They dress to flaunt their bodies, and my lone wolf could never long remove his gaze from the feast of smooth young flesh writhing past him.
Like a mermaid arising from the waves, I emerged from the mass of dancers to stand before him. How could he not look? I had clothed myself in dreams of love: 'He'll notice me. She's so hot. He'll forget all about her. Ask me to dance.' He stared at me in sullen astonishment, waiting to be humiliated. I took the cigarette from him and reversed it, sliding the butt end slowly between my lips. I drew the smoke in and let it puff out through my nostrils, the old trick of Hollywood femme fatales. "Hey," I said.
"Want to dance with me?" I moved nearer until my body rested against his. We were like the number 10, for I am very slender.
He shrugged, a Jell-O ripple of flesh. "Nah, I don't dance."
I pulled the cigarette free, stained with lipstick, and stuck it back in his mouth. "Then we'll do something else. Out back." I led him outside the club, then around back where the parking lot lights were few. There were some others here and there among the cars, but I have never minded an audience. I kissed my lone wolf. He had to be made to understand how much I needed him. He was as warm and vital as a bonfire; around us the world was empty and cold. Alone together in the night we were, my lone wolf and I.
He gave me all he had to give, and staggered away, leaving me sticky and half-dressed. I rearranged my clothes and bowed like a diva to the catcalling onlookers. I do so like to be loved. I got into my car and headed home. I'd make it through the day, though it does not allow the intimacy of the night. The energy is more scattered; people huddle together in the darkness. I passed my lone wolf where he stood at the bus stop, his face turned up reflecting the moon. He looked flat, like a life-sized photograph of himself. I had the best of him to cherish forever, a living treasure that would never go unappreciated again.
Waste not for lack of wanting, for I want all of you. Don't deny me; don't hold yourself back. I love you now and will love you always, when you are part of me.