A Marshmallow's Guide to Loving a Complete Idiot (Inanimate Insanity)(Marshple)

05. Talk About her Feelings

Monochrome, an adjective. Refers to the state of something that is colorless. For example, a grayscale photograph could be considered "monochrome," because there are no hues.

Somehow Marsh couldn't bring herself to pick up a crayon to accent her drawing that day. Instead, a pen was clutched in her hand hard enough to snap it in half.

What was the best thing to do when you felt that stressed? 'You talk to friends, obviously.'

Who was a better choice than her new, self-proclaimed, proud "best buddy" Apple?

At the back of her mind, Marsh thought, 'Okay, she might not be that smart - I seriously doubt she'll have something important to say about this - but she'll feel pretty happy that I could trust her. That'll fill my good-friend quota for the day.'

"Apple, do you ever feel guilty about things?"

"Nope!" Apple was laying on the ground facing her; she was tearing grass into tiny pieces as she did so.

'Well, this is off to a weird start.' "Are you sure? I'm pretty sure everyone feels it sometimes."

"What could I possibly have to be guilty about?"

'Here's a mental shortlist off the top of my head. You tore up my pillow at Hotel OJ. You threw glass at me. You insulted my voice. You set me on fire. You tore my Wal-Mart card. I STILL don't have enough customer-loyalty points to get a free smoothie again.'

Marsh took a deep breath and sighed. "Everyone has things they could have done better."

"I guess. I think I'm just too busy to think that much."

'Busy? Right. No lack of brainpower whatsoever.' Marsh repressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Sure, that's the reason. Anyway, I feel bad about some things."

"Marshmallow, things are cool between us! What else could you possibly be feeling guilty about?" Apple sat up, dropping the grass shards.

Marsh put down her pen and looked away from her drawing. "I know things are fine between us, but I feel really bad about other things."

"Like calling everyone an idiot in season one? That was kinda mean."

"Can you please just let me talk?" Marsh's voice rose. "There's Bow's death to feel bad about. I miss her. She was my best friend last season, maybe even my only friend. And all she wanted to do was talk about chairs and have fun. She didn't deserve to be locked in a box then fried."

"Marshmallow, why? You have a new best friend now. Who cares about her?"

'Did she actually just say that?'

"Besides, didn't all of that happen, like, six months ago? Get with the program! This is season two, can't we just forget about her?"

"I'll never forget about her! And just because I have a new 'best friend,'" she bitterly enclosed the phrase in air quotes, "doesn't mean I can't still think about my old one."

They glared at each other for a moment; Marsh was afraid for a moment that Apple would lose her temper and lash out. But instead she stood up. "Let's go hang out with the others, and let's not talk about her. Let's go."

Apple grabbed her wrist. Marsh only managed to slip her jagged, work-in-progress pen drawing into that yellow folder before being dragged.

For the first time, after four gruelling challenges and at least that many months... a grain of serious doubt planted itself somewhere in her brain.

'She seems jealous, and jealousy is never a good thing to have in a new relationship. And she doesn't seem to understand why I'd even feel bad about Bow! To be friends, you have to be able to talk about feelings, and if she can't understand them at all...'

Marsh stood up, and was dragged into a brisk walk by Apple. 'You know, maybe this whole friendship is a mistake. Maybe the universe is guiding you the wrong way after all...' Marsh was startled by the thought.

'Hmm. I guess only time will tell.' "Will you quit dragging me?"

"We're missing daylight. I heard that Lightbulb has a real Frisbee for us to play with. And then we'll draw some more. I'll prove I'm the best best friend!"

'I hope she doesn't find out about that drawing I made...'

On that incomplete, hastily-packed drawing, angry scribbles comprised Bow, her guilt expressed.