A deluge, the newsman called it.

Well, I don't know about that, but it was raining pretty hard as I stepped out of my car. My Underoath shirt and tight pants were soaked through in seconds and my long black hair was plastered to my head. I rearranged my hair so I could see and continued walking through Mayfield Park. It was empty except for myself and the puddles that kept getting larger and deeper. Finally, I reached my destination, the largest and muddiest puddle in the entire park. I sat down, splashing muddy water all over myself. We had decided that, when the time was right, I would call her up and we would meet at this exact spot. If she sat down and took my hand it meant she loved me. If she came and left it meant it was over. Now the rain was falling harder than before, but just remained as I was. Then I saw her, clad in her favorite outfit. Her face looked troubled, like she was having difficulties in making her decision. She started to move forward, but stopped herself. 'Oh, no,' I thought to myself. She turned around and walked away, but when she turned around, one last time, I could see a newborn tear glistening on her cheek. When she left, I was left alone.