"Whenever I come to your house, I know I won't be able to get a snack. Like there won't be crackers."
I think I've edged over into confirmed bachelor territory. Not in the Victorian-euphemism-for-gay way (although, now that I think about it, not necessarily not in the Victorian-euphemism-for-gay way, either). In the I've lived a one bedroom apartment for ten years and the oven has never worked way. The ran out of toilet paper so I just took multiple, specific showers throughout the day way. The eight jars of mustard but nothing to put it on in the fridge way.
Most of my old friends are married or shacked up. I'm the last guy my age in town who sleeps with women but isn't paying child support on a kid or two somewhere. I've come close to tying the knot a few times, but never gave it that final push into foreverness.
Some nights I'm lonely. My cat is a good companion, but doesn't go in much for conversation. Once in a while, when friends are having relationship troubles or I'm particularly comfortable sitting around in my skivvies watching Battlestar for the nth time, it occurs to me to be happy in my solitude. For the most part, it's not even something I think about. I have close friends, I have loose associations, I have plenty of human interaction and hugs and emotional support and laughs, so it's not like I'm longing for love. I even get my share of physical affection, albeit in a more casual way.
My bachelor days could end. I could fall head over heels tomorrow and get married next week. But right now I'm more concerned with the fact that I'm out of toilet paper and don't want to take another shower.