You can pretend, with the jokes and the bouncy house and the gifts and the cake that you didn’t hear her words, but you’re only fooling yourself. Something you’re actually quite good at, but not this time. You know those words exist. You even curse your great storage of a memory, because not only do you know of their existence, you remember the exact words, the way her face moved as she said it, the way her voice sounded, the pain and the hurt so evident in her eyes.
She was talking to her father and it was to him that she directed those painful words. You make excuses that she couldn’t possibly be talking about you. But you knew better, that’s the problem with being a hysterical deducer. You know things, you deduce things, whether you want to or not. This time it was her father who had lied to her, and you knew that if she knew about you, then you’d be hurting her in the exact same way.
You didn’t mean to. It’s not as if you started Psych with the intention of lying to her, specifically. Ok, yeah, you had every intention of lying to the whole Santa Barbara Police Department, but was it really your fault that Juliet became a part of said department?
Hmm, now that you come to think of it, yeah it was your fault. And now you’re cursing your memories again because it refused to make you forget how you pretended to be a psychic to save yourself. One thing led to another and one of the final results of your antics is Lassie’s old partner being replaced with Juliet.
Okay, so maybe it’s your fault that she moved here, but was it your fault that you fell in love with her? You still have a hard time saying it; you’re far from the emotionally stable and fully committed (though, unfortunately with the complete lack of several important inhibitions) that is ‘Last Night Shawn’ who asked her to move in with him. But of course that doesn’t change the fact that you do love her; it’s just not your fault you can’t properly say it yet.
Just like you can’t admit to her that you are in fact, not a psychic. But that’s not your fault either, right? Besides, it’s not just your secret to keep anymore. It’s unlike any of your other jobs, where you can just leave at a moment’s notice. It’s not like those times at that restaurant or any of the restaurants you’ve worked for, or several other get rich quick schemes you have pulled way back when. It’s quite unlike before when the only one who would suffer when you decided to bail would be yourself. With Psych, you’ve dug yourself far too deep into a hole that you’ve end up dragging and pulling others in with you as well.
You’d have to think of Gus, your best friend. He’d be an accomplice to a crime, and he’d never let you hear the end of it if you somehow managed to completely tarnish his spotless record. He might even have to attend court and spend some jail time. You’d have to think of Henry, your father. How could he be trusted ever again by the police if it was revealed that he’s been lying about you all along? He would most definitely lose his job, and what are you going to do when you have to share your Xbox with him again?
You know you don’t want any of that to happen, but you’re wrestling with yourself about what you should or should not do.
You know you can’t tell her that you’re not a real psychic. You know you want to tell her everything, from the very beginning. You know you mustn’t reveal your secret to her. You know that you’re going to have to tell her someday if you want your relationship to last longer than a Twin Peaks marathon. You know it’s going to break her because of how much she trusts you. You know that it’s the right thing to do, and that you really should not be lying anymore. You know that you can’t tell her, not now, not yet, and you don’t even know if you can ever actually tell her.
“Hey, what are you all talking about?” she inquires with a smile, curious at what you and her father are talking about. It seems almost ridiculous, the fact that you and her father have so much in common, including the ability to potentially break her heart. The only difference is that she knows about her father, while having no idea about you.
“Gifts and cake,” you lie, “Which one you wanna bust out first?”
“Cake!” the father and daughter chorused, and you retreat behind the smiles and the lies once more.
2087
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
