May 13, 2002 | 1:28 PM

The most horrible thought occurs to me during lunch and I have to stop eating. One bite into my sandwich and I can�t even look at it. I toss it in the trash.

I picture you someday with your new girlfriend, say a year from now. The two of you lay in bed and she asks,

So what was she like?

Who?

You know, your ex.

And you will light a cigarette and say.

I don�t know. We played in a band. She was really fat.

Did you love her?

You shrug.

Yeah. I mean, I thought I did at the time.

See, that�s how you talk about E____ and J_____

How E was fat and crazy and J was skinny and crazy. And it was as though they never existed, like they were special guest stars on a soap opera you saw a long long time ago. Once in a blue moon you call me by the wrong name.

Once in a blue moon maybe you�ll call this new girlfriend by my name. Maybe you�ll even give her the same nicknames you gave me.

She�ll want to know more about me. But you�ll have forgotten it all. Maybe you�ll hold on to two or three stories for safe keepoing�the ones you can turn into anecdotes at parties.

Yeah, she was pretty overweight. She could sing though. We used to have gigs at the Charles Playhouse. She used to steal all my socks and towels.

The new girlfriend will smile and nod. Then you�ll fuck her.

I should hold on to this image and think about it at each mealtime. I bet you I�d lose fifty lbs no problem.