With my Housemate, Partner in Breakup and the Fashion Editor all tentatively dipping their toes in new relationships this autumn, it's safe to say that my 28th year will probably be known as The One With All The +1s.
It's been a while since my last post, and no, love hasn't removed the need to blog, but something else has - relief, that I didn't find myself feeling jealous, bitter or resentful of my friends who have coupled up.
In a lovely twist on common assumptions, they have become happy in their fledgling relationships, and I in turn have remained happily single. It was the surest sign so far that while occasionally the longing to find someone does grip me, perhaps things are as they're meant to be for now.
But being single at 28, I'm realising, is a different kettle of fish to all the years before it. There's an added pressure, subconscious and spoken aloud, that things have changed. We're all thinking ahead in ways we never used to.
And while some friends are embarking on things, others are ending them for much the same reasons; last week, it was The Lawyer who made the split from her long term Younger Man. Unlike previous breakups, it wasn't arguments or infidelity that sealed this deal, but the fact that her bloke's vision for the immediate future (marriage, babies, and perhaps, on the off-chance, him willingly introducing her to his parents) didn't match with her own.
It was the PiB who noticed another nuance in 28 year old coupled life; that her having a man on the scene appeared to have prompted an increase in dinner party invitations.
"Its all 'Oh you and The Engineer must come round for dinner with me and so-and-so, and Other Coupled Friends" she mused to me the other day, continuing, "to which I thought 'where were these invites when it was just me before?' I only ever got told about the mad, drunken nights out."
Although that hasn't been the case for me, another sentiment has. "I'd love to see you happy", sighed a friend the other week - before clarifying "You know, with someone" - as if the two were synonymous.
Perhaps my version of happy is the wrong sort of happy in the eyes of some, but as long as I'm pleased for my friends and not envious of them, that's something I'm happy with for now.
And so we finish with a quote, from a BBC article I was sent yesterday:
"In the course of my life, I have loved and lost and sometimes won, and always strangers have been kind. But I have, it appears, been set on a life of single blessedness.
And I haven't minded. Or rather, I realise, I haven't minded enough. But now I kind of do. Take dinner parties. There comes a moment, and that question: "Why don't you have a partner?"
It is usually asked by one of a couple, with always a swivel of the eye to his or her other half, so really two people are asking this question.
And I struggle to answer: "I have never found the right person... I am a sad and sorry manchild... I am incapable of love... I am a deviant, and prefer giraffes."