Michael

He was just tired. He had tried. He didn’t feel like trying anymore. It didn’t to seem to make a difference. Life seemed to be living him rather than him living life. Every decision he made seemed to result in a bunch of other things going wrong. So what was the point? 

Michael closed his eyes and sank into the couch. He took a breath. Counted. Tried to make the inhalation and exhalation match in length. Tried to slow it down. Then remembered his friend telling him not try so much. Not to use the word try.

Trying. Tried. Tired.

Job. Kids. Stuff. Michael felt he had never really taken a decision despite angsting over almost every step until his feet had been forced forward.