Waiting in the Rain

He left my house yesterday, while the winds were howling and a storm was about to set in. On a cold bus stop in the city while the street lights glared down, he picked up his phone. Called. No answer. Voice mail. I'm so sorry, I never meant to break your heart. He says. rambles on. The rain comes, those who look on as the cars drive by can't tell whether its rain or tears that hit his face in the darkness.

Saves message.

I'm stupid...