The Host of My Heart (On Hiatus)

Chapter 13

As the shoppers seemed to rush by me in a blur, the question hovered in the back of my brain. Why was putting myself through all of this for Hikaru?  I knew that being hung up on a guy that cheated on you almost two years ago wasn’t healthy but even with Hikaru’s repeated reassurances about how this was sincerely necessary, I still found myself completely lost in this situation.

Had I been avoiding true adulthood for so long that I was incapable of actually acting like one?

Not to say that Hikaru hadn’t been right about a lot of things during our friendship, but this felt so foreign and strange. The muted response to my anxiety bounced around in my head as well; that I was doing this for myself. That I needed to do this, Hikaru was only the stepping stone into a beneficial situation. However, those same thoughts felt so false and stale that the idea of relying on them for strength to push through this was obviously stupid.

Another popped into my head as Issen and I dismounted from the escalator and walked into the food court; was making Hikaru happy worth making myself miserable?

Twenty years and I still haven’t the slightest answer to that question. Sometimes I thought perhaps that Hikaru’s happiness wasn’t the most vital thing, but Hikaru had money, looks and breasts and could replace me within a matter of moments. And without Hikaru what did I have?

Just myself? That just wasn’t enough sometimes.

“McDonalds?” Issen suddenly asked out of the blue.

“What?”

“You want to eat McDonalds?”

“I guess.” I muttered, a faint memory of Hikaru mocking my memorization of the menu stinging the back of mind.

Issen sighed and impatiently looked down at the heavy watch on his wrist. I squeezed the twine handles of my shopping bag and looked at his watch as well.

“You know, we don’t have to stay here. I mean, I can take the shuttle home.”

Issen looked up from his wrist and stared at me silently, an unreadable expression on his face. He let out a huff of air that left him slouched over and ran a hand through his hair.

“No, it’s…its fine. I, uh…let’s eat.”

With that poorly articulated sentence finished, Issen turned away and got in line for the McDonald’s booth. I stared at the back of his head in confusion. It sort of seemed that Issen wanted to say something but at the last minute didn’t. That couldn’t be it. That would mean that Issen actually considered my feelings before he let things come out of his mouth and I knew very well that was not the case.

We waited in line, got our food and paid before walking over to an available table to sit down and eat. I unwrapped my hamburger and discreetly watched as Issen tore into his large soda, big mac and two orders of fries. As shallow and petty as it made me, I really hated watching effortlessly thin people eat like monsters and never gain weight. I would say it was unfair, but it wasn’t like I ate like a bird or anything; I was just being jealous.

Before I knew it an unsolicited question had pushed passed the mush of food between my teeth.

“Do you eat like that all the time?”

Issen nodded and stuck his straw into his mouth.

“You don’t gain weight?”

“I don’t really eat. So when I do I eat a lot.”

“That sounds kind of dangerous.”

Issen shrugged and wiped the pickles off of his burger.

“It is, for some of the guys at the club. They don’t eat and all they do is drink all night, their livers get fucked up.”