What propels him finally to propose? Vincent Jackson talks about men and the marriage taboo

Like a row of dominoes that stood still for years waiting for the shove to topple them, one by one they went. After a decade of swearing blind into their pints that it wouldn't happen to them, I woke up one morning to discover that my four best friends were all married.

Sam started it all. And like lemmings, Lee, Jonathan and Darren all followed suit in the space of a year. Should I be happy? Like hell, I should. While they ran around compiling invitations with swirly silver writing, making wedding lists at John Lewis (all having the cheek to stick a DVD player in there) and booking expensive honeymoons at places where their pasty skins would never see the sun, I was left contemplating one ugly fact: amongst our little crew of once carefree single bucks, I was the last man standing.

After getting over the initial shock of realising I'd have to go through the gruelling task of tie-shopping four times in the space of 12 months (it's too shameful to be seen wearing the same one at every ceremony), I realised that this mass marriage malarky could have happened a lot sooner. It was just that we were all scared to be the first one to sign away singledom.

It's a myth that men think about getting hitched less than women. However, in the company of other blokes, men are less likely to admit they're smitten with the idea - simply because it's not seen as a macho thing to do. It's a lot easier for men to exploit the notion of a 'nagging missus' who bulldozed them into submission, to disguise the fact that deep down we, too, fear being left on the shelf.

Take my friend, Jonathan. He'd probably question my sexuality if he heard me saying this but he's good looking, successful, drives an expensive jeep, has a bulging shares portfolio and all the rest. Not the type who'd ever have to resign himself to a life of solo masturbation. But he's 33 now. He met his wife just under a year ago, and although I suspect he's not as in love with her as a marriage proposal would suggest, during a heart-to-heart he admitted that the thing that drives fear into his stomach is the thought of being in his 50s, still single and lonely, ruing the missed chances of not being able to share his success with a woman he deeply cares for.

The biological time clock theory is always attributed to women. But there's no doubt that men too are at its mercy, even if it is emotional rather than biological. There comes a moment in everyone's life when you want to share the things you've accrued - be they material or not. Deep down every man knows he cannot run around sowing his wild oats forever - especially when that developing paunch, those three chins and the forever-retreating hairline are now pitted against better-looking, young studs with the athleticism of cheetahs on heat. There's a certain security to be had - and this usually comes with age - in finding a woman who finds your little beer belly attractive and won't mind if it gets worse as the years trundle by.

Me? I've realised something, too. The thing that frightens me about all my mates getting married is not that I'm scared about being left on the shelf. Or becoming an outcast unable to join in the conversations about buying laminate flooring and bunk beds. It's just that the current betting, at the local All Bar One on a Sunday night, is that yours truly, the last man standing, won't be standing much longer.

Talk about men and marriage on Married life: what women want.