I felt like I could breathe again. He was speechless. He stared at me for a while completely dumbfounded, and then he left the club. That was the last time that I ever saw him. I still wish him only well.
Words can wound, or they can heal.
We make the choice, and the difference. Only Well because it's not being passive about life, on the contrary. It's realizing that you reap what you sow, and that's a powerful realization. Through the years, whenever I thought about that story or told it to someone, I felt a sense of peace and personal power, and so did everyone who heard it. One night in 1995, it just clicked.