Dating For Decades Read Online Free Page A

I’m not some high school hussy who slept with the entire football team.”
    “It’s been at least a football team.”
    “So you’re judging me now?” I never brag about the guys I meet, but I always sensed a bit of jealousy from her. She met Ben in college and they got married right after graduation. But commitment is her thing, not mine. She always wanted to have a Prince Charming and become a suburban housewife.  
    “No. Not at all. I think you’re married to your work, though, and you may be a little less stressed out if you stayed with a guy a little longer than a few weeks. Isn’t that why you started that support group?”
    “I created the group to meet other women like me. And along the way, I realize I’m happy how things are. I keep it going for the others.” Even though I don’t want to commit to a man, I commit to other things in my life. When I started Dating for Decades a handful of ladies joined and they need me and each other. I can’t let my girls down.
    “Well, that’s great then. But why not do something else with your free time? I mean, keep the group going, but maybe do some volunteering? Something in your field.”
    The thought crossed my mind before. For one, it would spice up my resume. I’m not looking to switch jobs, but in the event I do, this will only push my visibility. Second, I love technology and this gives me another reason to work with my passion.
    “I’ve got an idea!” Shannon practically jumps from the couch. “The library. I always see flyers with people teaching things there. Why not teach some sort of a class?”
    “I guess I can do something like that.” I shrug and take a drink of my coffee. It’s not as sweet as I’d like, but I’ll force the java down. “What could I teach, though?”
    “Why don’t you go to the library and talk with someone there? I’m sure they can help you.”
    I could use a distraction from my situation at work and this may prove a good way to do that. I can’t deny the possibility that I may learn something, too.  
    “When, though? My weeknights are usually jam packed with work and on Saturdays I have yoga.”
    “So move yoga to Sunday. Problem solved.”
    Of course she had an answer ready. Shannon will do anything or say anything to push me out of my comfort zone. She always has. Not a visit goes by where she doesn’t try to pop my work bubble and get me to do something else.
    “Fine. I’ll try it.” She smiles and her eyes light up. “For you.”
    “Thank you. You’ll love doing something for someone else.”
    Maybe, but I’ve spent my entire life focusing on me and bettering who I am. Do I even know how to help someone else?
    I guess I’ll find out.
    •••••••
    The last time I set foot in a public library I waited for hours for my mom to come pick me up. She dropped me on a Thursday after school and told me she had to work and would be there by eight to pick me up. The books kept me busy for a while, then by 7:45 I began to worry. What if she didn’t come back for me? What if one of her “boyfriends” convinced her to be with him and leave me behind? She told me never to call the police if she ran late. Just wait.  
    So I did. Three minutes before the library closed, and about thirty seconds before the librarian planned to call the police, my mom strolled through the revolving door, her hair a ratted mess and her lipstick faded and smeared onto her skin. She apologized and explained her shift at the restaurant ran late because someone didn’t arrive on time. I knew she wasn’t working. Her appearance told me all I needed to know about why she almost forgot about me.  
    I haven’t been to a public library since.  
    The library sure changed since the last time I was in one. I’m impressed by how they’ve moved forward with technology. There’s a self-checkout station, a big screen television showing events they’re putting on, and even a security checkpoint so books aren’t stolen. Do people