Insanity

He didn't know why he expected things to be different, he knew they wouldn't be. But for some reason, it was in his head that it would be. Nothing had changed, just like he knew it wouldn't.

He checked his phone. No text messages. He knew there wouldn't be, yet he still checked it. Someone once told him that "insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results." He didn't think he was insane, but then most insane people didn't.

His phone buzzed, he checked it. Another email. Not from her. Did that make him insane? He kept checking his phone looking for her text, her call, but it never came. So why did he expect it any different?


The last time he saw her, they had spoken about it. Her situation remained unchanged. His was the same. She couldn't be here, he couldn't be there. An impasse.  And still he missed her so. Those fleeting moments together just were not enough. He wanted more, she wanted to give more, but just simply couldn't. A Mexican standoff, so to speak.

He checked his phone again. Nothing. Insanity.