Ok, let’s do it.
It was about the seventh time my friend W. W. insisted that I joined him in the night philosophy course held by some obscure not-church run association.
It was all he learned about it, since he first invited me. Then he knew nothing and totally didn’t care. I had plenty of good reasons for staying out that foolish attempt to socialize with younger people, being this his only reason in. He was not ashamed of it at all.
I could have told I was never really into socializing but he knew that already, and for years tried unsuccessfully to change my ways.
He also knew that my philosophical distresses belonged in the past and that, rather than confident, I would be uneasy among less learned people. And ashamed, of course, that my intentions and his were seen as one and the same.
But he appealed to my loyalty to an old friend, newly divorced, so I had to appeal to something higher, my utter rejection of anything minimally resembling religion.
After feebly putting away that risk, that they would be twisting logical arguments to undermine human reasoning capacities and come out with some sort of mystic solution, he didn’t offer me any more details on the whole thing.
Although I knew the reason I was doing it, I was as much surprised as he when I said yes, let’s do it.
He looked at me quite intrigued but no question came out of his mouth. I thought he preferred not to ask me why I have changed my mind in fear that I would back down. But I’m almost sure now that the look in his eyes, and the way he hugged me, meant he was aware of my motivation then.