Random story though I know I am not much of a writer

He stared down at the river. Watching the water float past him. He clenched his fists feeling the note in his pocket. The paper had been crushed, curled up into a ball. He pulled it out one last time. He drank in the sentiment. The heart wrenching, tear soaked words that filled the page. Those emotions came roaring back. The pain and sorrow building with each word. Watching as each mistake unfolded on itself. So much left unsaid because he didn't know what to say other than I'm sorry. So he repeated that over and over in shaky barely legible handwriting. He looked at the river again and threw the paper in. It drifted away in the current. He walked up the embankment to the bridge. Not sure what was next, but knowing what he had lost.