February 13, 2002 | 12:17 PM

7B) ### Thurston Street

September 1998- August 1999 was the happiest I have ever been in my entire life.

Don�t get me wrong. There have been other moments during which I have been that happy:

Directing a local production of Our Town

Wandering around France

My first semester college acting class

But I had never had a period of consistent happiness in my entire life until that year. Absolutely nothing bad happened. Nobody died. Nobody�s house went up in flames. Nobody flipped and had a nervous breakdown. Nobody was abused or abusing.

Everything became at once extraordinarily exciting and completely sane.

I relaxed. I let my guard down. I trusted that everything was going to be ok.

I don�t know if I will ever be able to do that again.

If I could relive one year over and over for the rest of my life, it would be that year.

September 1998-August 1999.

As the weight of tragedy and loss was removed from my shoulders, so was it actualized in physical terms. I became (for me anyway) svelte. Skinny. Stunning. Once, a woman stopped me in the street to tell that I was beautiful. I actually for the first and only time in my entire life agreed with her. I could feel myself glowing from within brighter and brighter everyday.

I stopped analyzing everything and lived for the moment.

I stopped caring what other people thought of me because I liked who I was and fuck �em if they didn�t agree.

I stopped drinking almost entirely because I actually enjoyed the world sober. I didn�t need to make things seem, as Kirsten says in Days of Wine and Roses �prettier than they are.�

Things were so pretty already I could hardly believe it.

My days were filled with unfettered joy and bustling activity. I remember walking everywhere, spending hours of the day and night outside flitting from one amusement to the next.

I made friends. For the first time I had relationships that weren�t saddled with awkward intensity and misunderstandings. And suddenly, the whole world decided that I was The Bees Knees.

And.

And there was John.

One day, John and I did shrooms together. We sat in the garden watching the pettles shake off the lilac trees and swirl into the pond. He asked me,

What time is it?

And I replied,

It�s whatever time you want it to be.

And it was.

Have you ever really been in love before? I mean really and truly in love?

I remember being at work and looking at the clock thinking,

15 more minutes until I get to see him.

And I remember walking to his dorm across the twilight garden, the trees swimming in moonlight. I remember thinking,

I can�t wait to be with him again.

There were no awkward silences. There was so much to say. Plans were hatched. Dreams were born. I was soaring. I thought to myself everyday,

I am so lucky to have you in my life.

And we told each other we loved each other. And we meant it. And I forgave him all his indiscretions. It was so easy to forgive him for having broken my trust in the past because I learned to trust him so deeply and completely in a new way.

He hit his stride. Found his rhythm. Made Dean�s list. Wrote everyday.

One of his Creative Writing teachers told him he was brilliant and if he worked at it he could really be a writer. He talked about going to grad school for creative writing. Maybe he would be a teacher too. He was nominated for a writing award.

I talked about going back to school over the next year or so. Maybe taking out some loans and just working at the Stupid Company part time while I finished my degree. Maybe I would go back for writing again. Maybe psychology. The possibilities were limitless.

We talked about the life we wanted to have together when he finished college. There was so much excitement. It was like being a little kid and you can�t wait for your birthday.

But then imagine if your birthday never happened.

One time we were sitting in his dorm room watching Nick at Nite. He was drinking as he did most evenings�just a few beers on weeknights and all out partying on the weekend.. Just like everyone else we knew. This was one of rare times I drank with him.

He tossed back some Coors Lites. I polished off a few Sam Adams Cherry Wheats.

Out of the blue he turned to me and asked,

Anna, do you think i have a drinking problem

I was taken aback. The idea had never occurred to me.

I don�t think so. You�re in college. I mean, everybody drinks a lot in college. Now, if you like, graduated and drank this much and it interfered with your life�like say you just worked at the Stupid Company or something and drank all the time, then I would say yeah�maybe you have a problem.

I always remember that conversation because he never asked me again.

Stay tuned for Part the Nineteenth...

And if you�re just discovering the saga of my existence and want to get caught up on it so you know what everyone is talking about Monday 'round the watercooler*, then click HERE

*Yes ladies and gents. That was sarcasm.