Off to Canada! (to return in one piece?)

Sunday (tomorrow) I am traveling with the Messengers (the church drama group) up to Thunder Bay, Canada for a performance. We leave at 6 am, get there around 1:30 pm, eat a quick meal, set up, and put the show on. Normally I would be all nervous like because I've only been out of the country once before (which was also to Canada) and this is a completely new production. However, this whole thing with Dave is taking up so much brain time and space that I have little room for any other anxieties that would otherwise occur in a situation like this. Even Bill has pretty much vacated the arena at this point. The resulting effect of Dave and I being in such close proximity to each other for those many hours, both up there and back, will be interesting to see and experience. I doubt it will be anything dramatic. We'll probably continue to purposely avoid each other. Him because he doesn't want to encourage me in any way, and me because he has asked with every non-verbal cue that he wishes to remain at arm's length (or further if possible).

So I've already established that Dave won't talk to me. I think I'll have to just bite the bullet (swallow my pride?) and talk to Renee instead. The thought of that conversation makes me sneer in distaste, not only because I would much rather speak to Dave directly since this problem is between him and myself, but also because she has a softness and an unpleasant lilt to her voice that almost makes you think she has no backbone, that she can't stand up for herself. With many of her sentences that should be declarative (ending in a period) she adds a rising tone at the end which makes it into a question, like she's asking for your approval with everything she says. It makes it hard to listen to her for longer than a minute or so.

It's maddening when all that Dave will accept from me is a polite 'excuse me' when I need to pass by, that if I asked sincerely to just talk in an attempt at explanation, he'd defer to Renee in his lowest audible tone of voice. Yes, part of me knows that I brought this on myself. If I'd only kept my mouth shut I wouldn't be in this predicament. But then then another side pipes up with, 'But Dave said he was 'safe', dammit!. How was I supposed to know he'd get too freaked out to hear the entire story?'

Indeed, how was I supposed to know?