A small, balding man stormed into a neighborhood bar late one evening, slammed his coat onto the stool, and ordered the strongest whiskey they had. His face was flushed with anger, and after downing the drink in one gulp, he demanded another. The bartender, sensing something deeper than simple frustration, gently asked what had happened. After a long pause, the man sighed and admitted he had just discovered his business partner—someone he trusted for years—had secretly drained their shared savings and vanished. The betrayal hurt more than the money itself. He had worked nights, missed family events, and sacrificed friendships to build that company, only to be left feeling foolish and alone. Talking about it out loud seemed to soften something in him, and the tight anger in his shoulders slowly eased.

The bartender listened quietly, then slid a glass of water across the counter instead of another drink. “You can drown in what happened,” he said calmly, “or you can walk out tomorrow and build something better.” The man stared at the glass, realizing that no amount of whiskey would undo the past. What mattered was what he chose next. He paid for his drinks, thanked the bartender, and stepped outside into the cool night air feeling lighter than when he’d arrived. Sometimes, it takes hitting a breaking point to remember that setbacks don’t define a life—how we rise afterward does. And sometimes, the best therapy isn’t another drink, but someone reminding you that tomorrow still belongs to you.