February 10, 2003 | 9:06 PM

Do you know what I miss?

Getting off the T a few years ago and seeing Gonzalo Silva playing the bass. In case you don�t know, Gonzalo was Boston�s greatest subway musician�he was an institution, and he wrote some terrific songs (the best one was about a Deli Hause waitress). A couple years ago he moved to New York and I miss him terribly.

I miss a lot of that life terribly. It was so so long ago and it all feels like it never happened�that it was something I dreamed or pretended, and although I should know otherwise, the events of the past month have invalidated it for me�alienated me from a part of my history I can no longer afford to identify with because that identification was basically killing me .

I can remember what it felt like to love and trust someone and something so much and to assume it would always be there, be a part of my life. And now it�s not. I can remember what it felt like the way I can remember how chocolate tasted, but the feeling itself is gone. That�s what I miss- the feeling. I don�t really exactly know how that all happened or why, although I know there were turning points where things occurred that couldn�t be undone or apologized for.

And like I was saying earlier, I do not think I will ever have that kind of feeling ever again. I�m not saying I don�t love or won�t love ever again or anything stupid like that. I do love people. Very much. But something that was there, some kind of emotional mechanism, is just gone. It�s been obliterated. Maybe it�s a good thing that it�s been obliterated. I feel like a far more rational person. I have a lot more empathy for other people�s choices. I don�t see everything as revolving around me. But there were wonderful things too that are just gone�the sense that I could commune with someone wholly and totally without holding anything back. Or that people could be trusted completely. Or that real love and friendship could stand the test of anything.

My point in talking about this is that I wonder whether this will be what the rest of life is like. The beauty and the curse is that nothing is fixed in place. When things are bad, you can tell yourself quite correctly that soon they will be different. However, when things are good, you also have to know they won�t stay that way. It�s an amazing thing, this life and all it�s surprises. But it�s a painful thing too. I remember thinking that I had found the love of my life. And of course, that turned out to be completely wrong as of now. In the future, what will I look back on and think, �Wow, I was so wrong about that.�

What will I be doing a year from today? What will you be doing? How will we feel about our lives and each other? Will we look back on certain things and say, �That was a wonderful choice I made.� Or will we regret our actions and wish we could repudiate them. You just never know. That�s why every move and breath is a gamble. And why it�s all so rewarding and so fucking painful at the same time.

I miss Sean so much right now that it�s making me feel sick. I always miss him when he goes but this time it�s like a fucking pitchfork through my heart. I look at the space on my bed where he was napping and I wish he was napping there right now so I could curl up next to him and fall asleep and wake up next to him and tell each other our dreams. And I wish he was here to make me a cup of coffee and hug me and be my friend. Just being around him I feel calm and centered and happy and together and safe and loved. Danni too. We were just so happy to be together again. I love them so much. We conjectured about whether we�d all live in the same city again sometime. This summer Danni is going to India and Sean seems to have no plans to leave New York, but I hope that at some point we�ll all be together again and I can drop in on them whenever I feel like it.