He cares a little too much.
It doesn't matter, he'll get over it. He shouldn't even be considering it, obviously nothing is going on.
But look, he's a detective, it's his job to notice things. And one thing he notices is that Disher stares at Sharona. A lot. And there is something there, in his eyes, something that scares Monk.
He remembers coming home one night after a date with Trudy and looking into the mirror and seeing the same flicker, the same want, the same- adoration.
Well so what if Disher has a crush on her, so what? It's not like she actually feels the same way, she would never be with a guy like him, even if he is a major boost from the jerks she has dated. Even though they share this, this, is it a spark? Maybe. Yeah, maybe that's another thing Monk is afraid of.
That there might be some basis, some evidence to back up his theory. That one of these days the secret will be out, they'll both realize, they'll turn to one another and wonder: why not? What is holding us back? There isn't anybody else who really wants us.
That's not true. There is somebody. He just, the coward, he doesn't know how to tell her.
It's hard. How are you supposed to confess to a woman, your best friend who has been by your side through everything, that you love her? He can't lose her. He can't. And if she said no, if she left, he would never be able to forgive himself. Nobody understands Adrian Monk like she does, not even his psychiatrist. Without her he'll just disapear.
He realizes what a mistake he is making, what this silence could cost him. He's still waiting for some sort of sign, a gesture, but what if it never comes? Or what if it comes to somebody else?
And then he sees Disher's face. He walks into a crime scene, observes Sharona laughing and flirting with some hot shot TV star and then turns and is paralyzed with guilt. Because this isn't a little crush, this isn't some child's butterflies, this is love. Disher watches her, his face contorting as all these emotions play across it. Anger, pain, resentment, love, envy. The questions probably running through his mind are running through Monk's as well: why not me? Why can't I tell her how I feel?
Monk takes a deep breath and stands by Disher. Waits a moment. He can't hate the guy, they are in the same boat, being tossed around and thrashed by a storm. But they are holding on, gripping to the edges with white knuckles, because at the end of all of it, when the grey clouds part and the sea returns to its normal state, there's somebody really special waiting for them, even if its just for a pat on the back.
It doesn't matter, he'll get over it. He shouldn't even be considering it, obviously nothing is going on.
But look, he's a detective, it's his job to notice things. And one thing he notices is that Disher stares at Sharona. A lot. And there is something there, in his eyes, something that scares Monk.
He remembers coming home one night after a date with Trudy and looking into the mirror and seeing the same flicker, the same want, the same- adoration.
Well so what if Disher has a crush on her, so what? It's not like she actually feels the same way, she would never be with a guy like him, even if he is a major boost from the jerks she has dated. Even though they share this, this, is it a spark? Maybe. Yeah, maybe that's another thing Monk is afraid of.
That there might be some basis, some evidence to back up his theory. That one of these days the secret will be out, they'll both realize, they'll turn to one another and wonder: why not? What is holding us back? There isn't anybody else who really wants us.
That's not true. There is somebody. He just, the coward, he doesn't know how to tell her.
It's hard. How are you supposed to confess to a woman, your best friend who has been by your side through everything, that you love her? He can't lose her. He can't. And if she said no, if she left, he would never be able to forgive himself. Nobody understands Adrian Monk like she does, not even his psychiatrist. Without her he'll just disapear.
He realizes what a mistake he is making, what this silence could cost him. He's still waiting for some sort of sign, a gesture, but what if it never comes? Or what if it comes to somebody else?
And then he sees Disher's face. He walks into a crime scene, observes Sharona laughing and flirting with some hot shot TV star and then turns and is paralyzed with guilt. Because this isn't a little crush, this isn't some child's butterflies, this is love. Disher watches her, his face contorting as all these emotions play across it. Anger, pain, resentment, love, envy. The questions probably running through his mind are running through Monk's as well: why not me? Why can't I tell her how I feel?
Monk takes a deep breath and stands by Disher. Waits a moment. He can't hate the guy, they are in the same boat, being tossed around and thrashed by a storm. But they are holding on, gripping to the edges with white knuckles, because at the end of all of it, when the grey clouds part and the sea returns to its normal state, there's somebody really special waiting for them, even if its just for a pat on the back.