I, the Accused

By Calin Pintea

My name is Călin. And in the Romanian community in Houston the world knew me as a quiet, cheerful man with a smile on my lips. But, that was until the whole community and beyond was shocked after my daughter Alesia posted a letter online. Her statement immediately went viral,- with quite a large view in just four days. Now, I as a victim of the attack am reclaiming my identity and will tell you a story about trauma, transcendence and the power of words. Struggling with isolation and shame, after the attack and during the lawsuits filed, I will reveal the face of victims of injustice even in cases where the forensic evidence is clear and there are witnesses.  
This book, I believe, will totally transform the way we view bullying, challenging our beliefs about what is acceptable and speaking out loudly about the tumultuous reality. I hope that by weaving together grief, resilience and humour, my memoir will become one of the modern classics written from a contemporary reality. At a time when memoirs are being criticized as irrelevant and overly introspective, I remind you that our stories are worth telling, that names and the lives attached to those names matter.
When I decided to write, some time ago, I assumed that it would be possible for my readers to form all sorts of opinions about me, to like me or not, to approve of me or not, to understand me or not, to love me or not.... I have taken on all that could have resulted from my courage to expose my feelings, my most intimate thoughts and my way of seeing life's events.

I make it clear that the title is not fanciful, and that the material I have written corresponds to both. You will, you see, and it's not hard to convince yourself, it could have been written the other way around. In any case, this book, which I seriously intend to dedicate to those who have maligned me both publicly and privately, will not have a prodigious career, at least that's what I've been shown in the coffee-shops I consumed during my writing heyday, and that's because I don't dispute that there will be some who, out of elegance, and perhaps even out of respect for my age, will receive it positively. But there will be not a few who will regard it with condescension, who will even be annoyed, frustrated, hurt, annoyed beyond measure, and who, it is not excluded, when our paths (about interests, it is out of the question) cross, will pretend that (my, what a sample of cacophony I have avoided) some rubbish has got into their eyes. To these I make the following clarification:

Joking, humor, irony are the most serious things in life. For these to be born, considerable intellectual effort is needed; the others, drama, tragedy, serious situations, or the precarious economic state of some, come by themselves, here a good pen and a laborious mind are needed.
Old Shakespeare was always of the opinion that "the fate of a joke depends not on the mouth that tells it, but on the ear that hears it". 

So, in this case I hope I manage to get my head around everyone (starting with my wife), get pointed at (preferably the middle finger), not have my greeting answered, possibly lose my last friend.  So, to avoid a small part of the unpleasantness that, consciously or not, I have taken on, I pawned my cheek at a shoe factory.

Călin Pintea

• Language: English
• Publisher: Calin Pintea
• Release date: Jan 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224893096

Book preview

I don't have a professed vocation to say

whether a book is valuable or not,

I guess it wouldn't keep me strong, not even at the average level of others, but in front of the volume:

I, THE ACCUSED

I will hazard myself cautiously.

Not every experience should be gained at the cost of one's mistakes.

Life is learned from books and art objects,

perhaps more than from life itself...

Take this chance, accept this book.

She will explain a lot to you.

This book is my compliment to your intelligence.

Author

Part One

Lies and betrayal

PROLOGUE

IN THE FALL OF '74 I decided to make my entrance into this world where I did not hesitate to dive headfirst and taste the pleasures of life. And as much as I wanted to experience only the joys of life, I realized that even from the less pleasant ones I learned. My life has been good and bad, viewed from the outside as an individual with no apparent concern. I keep the good ones in my heart, the bad ones I try to solve as best I can. How? Understanding that I cannot change my memories, but I can give them another meaning to help me come to terms with the Past, live in the Present and look confidently at the Future.

I didn't settle for the phrase This is what God wanted. Over the years I started on the path of knowledge. I attended the Faculty of Theology and was ordained, first as a deacon and then as a priest. As a young priest, I knew how the human psyche worked, but I didn't know much about the soul. In my opinion, I knew that traditional medicine deals exclusively with the physical body, psychologists heal the psyche and priests heal the soul. While I served at the altar of faith on Sundays or various feasts, I continued to find answers to my often puerile questions: Why do certain things happen in life? Why do we come? What is the purpose of this pilgrimage on Earth?

Do you think priests are safe from challenges? Of course not! What did I do then? In moments of need? I evaluated my life: socially, professionally and relationally.

Far from being what I wanted, I was in a toxic relationship. I had completely given up on myself, on what I liked, believing in this way that I was saving my marriage, my relationship with my wife. Nothing more true. Giving up all the things I liked and from where I was charging my batteries, one Day I woke up exhausted, drained of energy, weak and without any power. I realized that this is no longer possible. I realized that both the little girl and I were suffering. One Day, Alesia asked me, daddy, why are you so sad? This was in the condition that I was striving to show him a different face, which of joy and contentment. But my daughter was a good reader of the soul, better than that of adults because she has not yet covered her soul at 16 years old with many dusty starts. It was the cold wake-up shower: who am I fooling, her or me. Apparently not her, then me, but why would I? What benefit would this toxic relationship bring me? None: sadness, disappointment, unfulfillment, sometimes anger turned against people who didn't deserve it. In addition, this amalgam of sadness is also experienced by loved ones, whether they are talking here about parents or friends. I had to do something...

At that moment I had forgotten about myself: who I am and what I want from my life. But asking myself these questions: Who am I? What do I want from my life? It was the starting point for the journey towards myself and towards a life that almost fulfills me. I woke up in a whirlwind of life where things got out of control and the doctors shrugged their shoulders. I had lost a lot of pounds, I could walk just by holding my hands against the walls, and I kept asking myself: Why? Why? Until the evening I made my will in front of God, telling Him with all my heart that I want to live because I have many beautiful things to do and experience.

I began to clear my emotional, mental and spiritual baggage. I had to do a real cleaning in my life, remove the mud and rebuild myself. Of course, it takes a lot of courage and great honesty towards yourself to embark on the most adventurous and important journey, the one towards yourself. I basically started by rebuilding my foundation. I took the unpleasant experience in my life, wrote it down and started working with it by passing it through the filter of thought, emotion to finally accept it, integrate it and transform it into something useful and useful. Every life experience is a life lesson!

And after doing this cleaning, after understanding that our masters in life are not always our friends, I noticed that I had removed the layers of dust that had settled throughout my life on my soul and that now I can easily enjoy life. I had forgotten to enjoy the rain, a ray of sunshine, a starry sky, a can eaten in the park, but it's wonderful when you can enjoy the little pleasures of life.

My name is Calin. And in the Romanian community in Houston, people knew me as a quiet, cheerful man with a smile always on his face. But that was until the entire community and beyond were shocked after my daughter Alesia posted a letter online. Her statement immediately went viral, - with quite a large view in only four Days. Now, as a victim of the attack, I am claiming my identity and I am going to tell you a story about trauma, transcendence, and the power of words. Struggling with isolation and shame, after the attack and during lawsuits, I will reveal the faces of victims of injustice even in cases where the judicial evidence is clear and there are witnesses.

This book, I believe, will completely transform the way we view aggression by questioning our beliefs about what is acceptable and speaking loud and clear about the tumultuous reality. I hope that by weaving pain, resilience and humor, my memoir will become one of the classic modern writings in a contemporary reality. At a time when memoirs are criticized as nonessential and overly introspective, I remind you that our stories are worth telling, that names and lives related to those names matter.

When I decided to write some time ago, I assumed that it would be possible for my readers to form opinions about me, to like me or not, to approve me or not, to understand me or not, to love me or not... I assumed everything that could derive from my courage to expose in plain sight both my feelings and feelings, my innermost thoughts or the way I see the happenings of life.

I must admit, however, that I did not expect or even think about something for a moment: hatred. Because I didn't think it would be possible for some of my fellow human beings to hate me and even betray me. Or just because it's not to their taste what and how I write, my style of writing down my reflections, the way I express my experiences, my soul processes. It's just that since then I've gotten used to everything, including the bad ones above. I understood in time that many times this is not to be negative and to say that every time, success comes with the hatred of those who have not managed the same performances, but also of those unable to enjoy someone's successes. Since then, I have often been reproached for not talking more about myself and I don't know, what should I reveal more?

I think everything people should know about me is already in my writing. Thanks to my texts, any reader can know my soul, character, moods and a small part of life. And that's about it, but I think that's enough. Besides, I don't have anything so special that I consider myself worthy of the world's interest and attention.

I am a simple, natural man, not at all out of the ordinary. I am a person with common sense, educated in the spirit of values that helped me make up and define myself from a spiritual and human point of view and nothing can change me from who I am, neither popularity nor success. I will never consider myself above another person just because I have some successes that others do not have, because I am aware that everyone excels in something, that everyone has something valuable, but not everyone knows it and not everyone has the opportunity to discover and prove what potential they have. And I know, and this is very important, that there will always be someone much better than me. I am a man who will not be ashamed to admit his flaws or weaknesses, even if sometimes from my writings it seems that I have a flawless morality. No, my dear ones, I am not a saint, why did some people rush to put me against the wall, saying that I want to appear something other than what I am? I made mistakes myself, I hurt and disappointed, sometimes willingly, sometimes without, I had moments of wandering and moments when I was disconcerted, but I have a sincere soul, decent behavior, I love people and I have no hidden purpose in dealing with them.

I have never compared myself to anyone, I have never competed with others, I do not live to prove to someone that I can do more, that I have more, that I know more. I live to be someone in my soul, not in the eyes of the world. My soul does not feed on praise and cheers, and when I receive them, I do so with humility, gratitude and humility. My soul feeds on the love of my loved ones, their happiness, their accomplishments and my beautiful and serene life with them.

And if you still want to know, find out that sometimes it looks like I'm floating, even though I crawl. I also have my pains, my longings, my worries and my fears, because no one is exempt from troubles and inconveniences. But I always knew that the important thing is the attitude towards everything you have been given and the learning you can draw from everything. I was not spared from complexes either, but in time, I learned to like and enjoy myself as I am, aware at the same time that I am more than a package, and that everything I have truly beautiful and valuable is in my soul, riches from which I can give to others. Because I discovered in time that a person's beauty has no value if it does not help others to be beautiful, and a man's wealth still has no value if they do not help other people, if they are not shared with others. For those who think I was born in a lucky sign, I would like to say that I, like all of us, have had difficulties in life, because where are the supermen who have not faced them? At some point I lost everything and rebuilt myself from scratch, there was a time when I slept in the car, fed myself only with empty bread and water, but also with hopes and courage. Because I preferred not to depend on anyone, I didn't want my troubles to become the burden of others or to grieve my loved ones, but it was also helpful for me to have the ambition that no one could ever tell me I gave you, I helped you or the loathsome if it wasn't for me... And we went ahead!

And I kept repeating to myself that when I was ever seen with my hand outstretched, it would only be because my hand reached out to give and never to ask. All my life I have preached and fought to give good to myself and to those around me. I have created a beautiful world, with good and sincere people who do not sell image, who do not see an opportunity in every person, who do not live just to prove something to the world, people with whom I feel at ease and in whose souls I feel safe. I avoid as much as I can negative, Sirk people, from whom I have nothing good to learn and who disturb my peace. Quite late I learned both to manage my relationships and to value my time – and I can say that I gained enormously. I gained life lived beautifully and inner peace.

I am aware that there will always be people who will love me, just as there will always be people who will not like me, and even people who will hate me - their business why, is their burden, not mine. Because in the meantime I have really managed to detach myself from the things that are beyond my comprehension and that I refuse to take into account anymore. I am strictly concerned about my behavior towards others, not others towards me. For what they are and what they do, everyone pays at the price of their own happiness or unhappiness, it's a matter of personal choice, and I don't judge anyone's choices. I can't promise to be a perfect person, I can only say that I want to be a good person and mean something good in the lives of those who meet me. My goal is to bring more good and beauty to this world and, with God's help and all the love I am capable of, I hope I will succeed.

And I, Calin Pintea, the man whom some are quick to catalog, whom some fail to know and judge without understanding him, is the one who can be seen in his writings, but even more than that, if someone would try to read between the lines, as I have already said. A much more complex one, like all of us, isn't it? But I can assure my readers that I will never compromise for the sake of a good image, for the sake of money, or out of pride in the admiration of the world. And no, I will not change for anything in the world, no matter how high or low life takes me. I already know that you don't die from bread and water, I know that the people who love you the most today can be the first to disappear when it's hard, I know that nothing belongs to you (except yourself), that you can rebuild yourself from scratch, that you can love again and again, that you can lose again and again... and, above all, I know that God exists. The one who carries you in his arms when you can no longer walk, who sends you a good man when you are alone, who gives you a new dream when you no longer aspire to anything...

I don't regret anything. I am grateful for all the good and beauty I have been given, but I am also grateful for the bad and pain I have received. From everything I learned my lesson and they all made me stronger. My true strength, my true success, my true wealth is what I leave in people's souls. And that's something nobody can take away from me.

Thank you to those who understand me, admire me, love me and are part of my beautiful world! Please take from me only the good, and let what is wrong about me be just an example of not so. I also thank those who hate me gratuitously and even the bad ones who showed me how harmful they can be, because from them I learned how I should not and how not to ever want to be. And I wish you all to always be healthy, happy, loved and surrounded by good people, surrounded by good people, good people!

What you will discover in Lie and Betrayal is the heartfelt and moving story of my journey from chaos to rebirth, the story of accepting painful truths! My confessions are traces or, if you will, evidence for a time when, in one form or another, he will ask you what you did with them. There are a few thoughts that sat side by side forming impressions and conclusions, my own views about the world and life, about people and happenings, about good and evil. I also have my certainties and doubts, my specific happiness’s and sorrows, the questions and answers I have gathered in my last years.

I wrote confessions to unload everything, to recycle what my mind no longer wants or can't bear; The drop that fills the glass, if you prefer, which I threw on the sheets. The stowaways I threw out of the train just to sound the alarm... What signal?

What questions and answers?

Nowadays, talking about suffering is not an easy occupation, nor is it a pleasant one. Talking about the suffering of others can arouse suspicion among those who believe that it is only personal experience that legitimizes you to give voice to your own thoughts and opinions. But talking about your own suffering does not seem to please those who will hasten to label you without restraint as a person lacking dignity or discretion in such delicate matters. But speaking of personal suffering with unwavering faith in divine help and with the responsibility of one who confesses that only in Christ do we live, move, and are (Acts 17:28) can be both joy for believers and stumbling blocks for those who still wander in the world of doubt.

A decisive factor in the decision to publish my story was a good friend! I confess that it was an old dream of mine to get to write this book! So this friend took me to one of the monasteries in Texas. There, among the fathers and hermits with holy life whom I met and knew, I had the joy of discovering a great confessor of our Day. The priest invited me to his holiness' cell, and after a confession-like discussion of almost three hours, he advised me and then even gave me a canon to write a book on the subject of the dramatic event I experienced, about which I have just narrated. If until then I had not confronted many of my friends and acquaintances categorically when they asked me to write a book, I did not manage to refuse Father Abbot because he managed to change my opinion about the futility of such an action.

So overwhelming was the father's influence on me that a few Days after returning from the monastery on a rainy September evening, I sat down at the writing table, with the lamp lit at the icon of the Mother of God, and did not get up from my chair until noon the next Day, when I finished writing the first pages. What you will discover in the following pages; Of course, in a rather rudimentary form, given my lack of experience in writing. In order not to upset anyone, I decided to protect the identity of certain people who had a role, directly or indirectly, in what happened. Apart from that imaginary dialogue at the beginning, I confess before God and before people that what the reader will discover in this book is not the fruit of my imagination, but is based on real events, lived by me and those close to me. Such a confession, written equally with joy and gratitude for the divine gift received, but also with pain and restraint in memory of the terrible sufferings we have experienced. I was not surprised to learn that the papers of memories of the hard Days were made after a long search, with much reluctance, even opposition, for the constant fear that everything would be trivialized and consigned to the realm of fantasy literature. But it was a great joy to learn that, also through divine work, my testimony managed to overcome narrow and timid calculations, to be open to all who wish to receive it for the discovery of the truth.

Before writing down what I went through, I asked myself if what I set out to do was a good thing. Will those who read this understand or misjudge me? Therefore, I would like to warn the eventual reader that this confession aims to be a bridge between people who have gone through suffering, like me, and those who will suffer at some point in their lives, to give them a drop of hope and comfort on their way. I feel the need to tell you that I did not set out from the beginning to necessarily achieve a goal through this writing. But if I were to invent one now, it would sound like this: all people must come to the realization that nothing happens by chance in this world, but that everything that happens to us is the result of our own actions because God does not work against our will. It's been several years since the dramatic moment my future was broken! From that fateful moment I can say that I experienced hell and heaven, death and life, agony and ecstasy, curse and blessing. Many times I have been recommended to write a book about my passions; For Days I was even pressured not to let such an unusual occurrence fall into oblivion as time went on. Acquaintances, priests, doctors and friends urged me to write about what, in their opinion, was the story of a contemporary miracle. For a long time I disobeyed them, because I considered it almost sacrilege to reveal things that should remain between me and God.

I would like to point out that the title is not fanciful, and that the material I wrote corresponds to both of them. You will, see, and it's not hard to convince yourself, it could be written the other way around. However, this book, which I seriously intend to dedicate to those who have slandered me both publicly and privately, will not have a prodigious career, at least as I was shown in the coffee grounds consumed during the writer's boom, and that's because I do not dispute that there will be some who, Out of elegance, and maybe even out of respect for my age, they will receive it positively. But there will not be a few who will look at her with condescension, who will even be annoyed, frustrated, hurt, annoyed outright, and who, it is not excluded, when our paths (about interests, there is no question) will cross, to pretend that (my mother, what a sample of cacophony I avoided) some garbage has entered her eyes. For them I make the following clarification:

Joke, humor, irony are the most serious things in life. For them to be born requires considerable intellectual effort. The others, drama, tragedy, serious situations, or the poor economic condition of some, come naturally, requiring a good pen and a laborious mind.

The elder Shakespeare was always of the opinion that the fate of a joke does not depend on the mouth that tells it, but on the ear that listens to it.

So, in this case I hope to be able to put everyone in my head (starting with my consort), to be pointed with the finger (preferably the middle one), not to be answered to greet, possibly to lose my last friend. So, in order to avoid a small part of the inconvenience that, consciously or not, I assumed, I pawned the cheek at a shoe factory.

Călin Pintea

ABOUT LYING

Lying is the seed that bears fruit in all lands, which is why it can be cultivated with such pleasure everywhere. But its fruits are bitter and dry.

Vasile Conta

WE'RE LYING! WE ALL do. We exaggerate, we minimize, we avoid confrontation, we avoid hurting people's feelings, we conveniently forget, we keep secrets. Like most people, I enjoy the small benefits of untruth, and yet I continue to think of myself as an honest person.

Lying has always existed and has been frowned upon ever since. But it has been with humanity from its inception, at all levels of society. In modern times, the spread of lies has increased exponentially as a result of the development of the media, and even more, it is beginning to be approved and sometimes recommended.

In the explanatory dictionary of the Romanian language, the notion of lying is defined as Statement by which the truth is deliberately distorted; untruth.

Why is there a lie? Does man need a lie? A number of thinkers have spoken of people's need for lies and people's inability to know and accept the total truth.

Lying, according to Robert Feldman, a psychology professor at the University of Massachusetts, is a basic skill we learn from age three. Moreover, we will use it as a means to achieve success: socially, professionally, sexually, politically.

Nietzsche said, We need lies to live. Similarly, Kierkegaard wondered, Are we prepared to recognize all the consequences of truth? Man can more easily face reality and mortality by lying. Tudor Arghezi said that man disaggregates when he is not lied to.

A classic view is that the effects of lying are most often negative, so lying should be avoided except in extreme situations. Luis Book argues that lying must be kept within certain limits (which have long been exceeded), but we cannot absolutize by saying that it must be avoided at all costs. It would be like asking a man to stop being human, to be perfect, to be a machine, as if he no longer had feelings and impulses to deal with.

From a religious point of view, lying is considered to be a sin, it is cultivated in the heart and imagination, it is manifested perfectly by gestures, words and deeds in order to falsify the truth and deceive one's neighbor (Jn 8:44; F. Rev. 5:3-5; Ephesus. 4,25).

Lying is always motivated, overdetermined by desires, interests. We hide the truth to avoid disputes, out of convenience, to avoid inferiority complexes or not to disturb other people. Denigration, avoidance of responsibility or affiliation with the entourage are other reasons behind a lie. It is a way to easily fulfill a good or bad goal, it is a cultural acquisition that is refined as the subject reaches a certain cognitive performance, acquires a certain praxiological experience. She is a social glue with a very pronounced dual character. Although it is loathed, in absentia, the world we live in would become chaos. There are several types of lies, but the most common are:

-B ig lie - aims to deceive the victim into believing the information told by the liar, something that will probably be contradicted by some information that the victim already possesses. If the lie is large enough, it may succeed, due to the victim's reluctance, to believe that an untruth of such magnitude would indeed be fabricated;

-Bluffing is when you pretend to have information you don't actually have. Bluff is an act of deception that is rarely seen as an immoral act when it happens during a game where this deception is agreed to beforehand by players;

-Open lie - It is a lie told straight and confidently to the face, in order to be convincing;

-Butler lie - small lies told electronically and are used to end a conversation;

-Contextual lying - when a person supports a point of view that seems plausible, but in reality, that person does not really have information about what they fiercely support;

-Economy with truth - careful disclosure of facts, without detailing with too much information; speak carefully;

-Emergency lie - strategic lie, told when the truth cannot be told because it causes social unrest;

-Exaggeration lie - occurs when the most fundamental aspects of a statement are true, but only to a certain extent. It is seen as stretching the truth or making something or someone seem stronger, weaker, or real than they are;

-Joking lies - are made for amusement and formulated in a way that all participants of the conversation understand, an example is irony or teasing;

-Lying to children – are generally mediocre, in which euphemisms are often used, to make it easier for adults to broach a topic with a child;

-Lying by omission - is that lie by which important Sita is omitted, deliberately leaving a misconception to a person;

-Business lies – the seller of a product or service can falsely advertise what they offer, especially when they have competition;

-The noble lie is one that would normally create discomfort if the truth came out, but provides some benefits for the liar by doing good to society which means it does good to others;

-White lie - are minor lies that are considered harmless, or even beneficial, in the long run, it is the way of telling only partially the truth, so as not to be suspected of lying, in order to avoid uncomfortable questions;

-False oath - is a type of lie or a type of false statement given under oath during a legal trial in court or in any type of written oath;

-Exaggerated advertising are exaggerated claims, usually found in advertising and ads, such as best quality at lowest price. Such claims are unlikely to be true, but cannot be proven false, so they do not violate the law.

In conclusion, to unfurl your foreheads and laugh a little, I want to remind you that, in the tradition of raising and educating children in Romania, erroneous principles about life and non-values, stealing and lying, in the most elegant, artistic and harmless way, presented as if they were values of life, are instilled in their subconscious from an early age.

I will justify these statements with a classic childhood poem. I think you remember Curly-haired puppy. In the case of poetry, we do nothing but bail out some anti-social behavior: lying, stealing. And the text doesn't say it's wrong. At some point, repeating these things, the behavior develops. It's sociological theory, it's not my personal opinion, it's the science of education that says this.

What does poetry tell us?

That a puppy is caught red-handed while stealing a duck. However, although he was discovered while committing the crime, the puppy denies it, does not recognize the evidence. Moreover, although he is a thief, he claims in front of others that he is honest. Summoned to authority, the puppy refuses, because he knows he will be punished.

And, we can infer that they are trying to solve the problem in other ways! Is there a way around the law? I say too... I don't know!

ABOUT BETRAYAL

We are a strange mixture of moods and things: we betray by crying and we laugh by betraying.

Grigore Vieru

INITIALLY, MY VIEWS on betrayal refer strictly to reality, to people, to things that usually and inevitably happen. The people I will describe in this book that I am going to talk about here are nothing but emblems! Some exponents of a concept. Why do there need to be more? Because it has to illustrate multiple sides of the same concept. Betrayal has existed since ancient times, a sign that it is deeply inscribed in human DNA. Each of us has betrayed in one way or another, at one time or another. Not because such was destiny! It's because it's the result of a choice I made at some point. Because then the ego was stronger or higher than others. Because we succumbed to an impulse or instinct or, on the contrary, because it was the result of a long-drawn plan. Why do we betray? Not because there was Judas Iscariot! It's because we haven't been able to control our desires, our instincts. Because I thought so. Because it's part of life. We are solely to blame for everything that happens to us, and we must own up to that.

But as the world was too serious and involved in the discussion, giving it a different direction than the one I had started, using arguments from books, well supported or refuted, I thought it made no sense to spoil the meeting and retired here. For the rest of a doubt, I will go, as I like when I want to talk about something serious, From the definition:

BETRAY, I betray, vb. I. 1. Willfully and treacherously deceiving someone's trust, committing acts that are against him, colluding with the enemy, etc. Being disloyal to someone or something. Deviating from a line of conduct, proving inconsistency towards an action, idea, etc. Committing infidelity in love or marriage; to cheat. 2. (About physical or mental faculties) Stop working (well), causing difficulties. Memory betrays him. 3. 3. Tranz. and refl. To (give oneself) away; to (give oneself) away. From Latin tradere (source: DEX online)

I think there are enough examples here to clarify the concept.

You can betray someone you have assured of your support. You can betray the person you love. You can betray your best friend. You can betray an idea. You can betray the country, fleeing to the enemy with the defense plan carefully developed by the rulers. You can also betray your country by following your own interests, even though you promised to serve your people.

How many forms does treason take...

Let's throw stone!

The simplest seems to us to speak by pointing fingers: (you) betrayed me! The index finger indicates both feelings of deep indignation at the wretched man's gesture and his inability to evade the act. He betrayed, let everyone know! As if that makes us feel better. Well, events have shown that some people actually feel better doing this! They have a satisfaction bordering on cynicism at its highest levels. And then you sit and ask yourself what is higher than the victim, in morality, in nature, in man, than the wretched traitor?

Let's stone him to death! Let's hang him! Let's him! We have never understood why we throw ourselves into punishments that are more or less cruel and unimaginable. My perplexity concerns especially those who consider themselves great believers, followers of the turned cheek. We are too outraged, humiliated, hit in pride by the gesture of the bastard, in my case the bastard. Who else is burned by criminal or civil lawsuits or by certain invented cases? Does it matter why he did it? Where did it all start? How can something be fixed? Not! Under no circumstances ... I don't think so. Shall we apply the Law of Talion? I don't think so either. What I believe are only the words spoken by Marin PreSi: Whoever betrays will be  betrayed.

Let's say (absurdly, obviously, because we would never do that, right?) that we find ourselves traitors. What is the cold trace of the wall like? What would the whip marks thrown on our backs look like? How would we swallow our own blood through the jabs in the uproar of the crowd excited by the noise of flesh slapping under the blows of the lawgiver grinning with satisfaction?

Wouldn't we at least want to be listened to? Should we be given a chance? Shall we even say that we regret it? Instead, we wake up with our fist in our mouths: Shut up, you bastard! You don't have the right to speak!

Role-playing is always the hardest. We cannot see the other's perspective, for the simple reason that we are not the other, on the contrary, we are the suffering victim.

I firmly believe that I must orient myself not towards what the miserable woman has done to me, sitting and feeling sorry for myself for years and saying it to everyone I meet, but towards what I have to do from here on. Obviously, here comes the Sita of the problem that nuances it every time: the intensity of suffering, the possibility of forgiving, of starting over or on the contrary. The essence is that when drawing the line, you should not give a comma. In the end, I have to shake off the dust, get up and move forward with my eyes wide open. Does it make sense to blame? Does it make sense to carry hatred in my soul? Who do they harm? The bastard or myself?

If I'm on the other side... It would be a heavy burden for me. But the attitude is the same: we start all over again, still with our eyes wide open and with the consequences of the deed deeply carved in our minds. Maybe so, I manage to bridge the abyss next time.

I have a special relationship with God. I don't need rituals to demonstrate my love for Him, and I don't need epiphanies to convince me of His love. I must make this point for those who believe bigotedly in all sorts of things that are not necessarily Christian. In this context, I argue that biblical accounts are meant to teach life lessons and promote true values, and characters are illustrations of concepts. I will never understand from the Bible that there is a destiny that strikes man or provokes him to walk a crooked path. I will understand, instead, that man, endowed with everything divinely needs, chooses his own path. Everything he does is not the result of an already written path, he is solely and directly responsible for what happens to him. It is not God who punishes him for what he has done, but the consequences of his actions reach him.

Judah? Judas is the embodiment of all traitors like him. The proof is even the fact that his name has become a common noun: you are a Jew (I have now hastily found at least two links where it is used in this way). The book clearly teaches us that in life we will certainly encounter such people. Close, silent, ready to do anything for 40 pieces of silver.

Peter? Is it second to none? Isn't breaking the promise to watch over Jesus while praying and rejecting the rooster three times before even rooster singing? How many have promised things we have forgotten or neglected with or without realizing it? In essence, the conclusion is drawn by everyone. Depending on one's own education, culture, experiences. I betrayed. I was betrayed too. The taste is just as bitter even now. Betrayal is one of the attitudes that has existed for as long as the world and it is impossible to fight. If I'm not mistaken, it also took flight when Pandora's Box was opened. It is a sign of human weakness. It exists and hits you when you don't expect it.

What can you do? Nothing, - to prevent; but a lot to get over.

CHAPTER I

THE HOUSTON CRIMINAL Courthouse of Harris County in Texas was a small sandstone monument with huge columns and Greek pediments. The little sun that appeared, began to disappear, swallowed by a cloudy massif. Although the courthouse building I just entered was full of policemen, there was no human scream in the parking lot. The courtrooms on the upper floors of the huge building included the judges' tables, the jury boxes, the benches of lawyers and prosecutors, an appreciable forest of oaks that had fallen for the good of the case! The solid wood flooring had faded in places, probably dulled by the footsteps of generations of lawyers.

I was very familiar with such courts, although in Romania I did not take part even as a spectator. A bitter cold reigned on a rainy winter Day. I could swear that this court was rarely so hectic as it was that Day. The hallways bustled with people, not staff, but reporters, photographers, cameramen, competing to occupy positions in front of a podium filled with microphones. My case had attracted the attention of the entire Romanian community and not only! I was thrown into deep water and it was clear that I didn't know if I would be able to swim past the big fish, but I had nowhere to go. The subject transcended sensibilities and manners. They were as big as America... and intimate as a family.

The world is a scene, I muttered with cynical humor, squeaking at too many cigarettes and too little sleep from last night. The price, what was the price. You'd grease the wheels with good whiskey and soft talk, light smiles and expensive cigars, all to be banished the next morning with a handful of aspirins and a gallon of strong coffee. That it was just the penultimate criminal trial out of countless we've had. I was so exhausted that I wanted to quit.

The county attorney's door opened, and I began to roar with questions, stirring up a roar like a pack of greyhounds out hunting foxes. A uniformed sheriff's deputy clears an aisle, making way for the woman I recognized immediately.

It was the plaintiff in this assault case, who had been my wife of 24 years. The one I helped when she needed it most. She is the woman who mocked me, but especially the child. My child, Alesia-Gabriela. I had learned from the lawyer representing me in this case, that the State prosecutors; Veltri and Childers are known to reverently promise and accuse the guilty as much as the law allows. My mind was telling me: so do with the guilty but not with me, who does not consider myself guilty, I am - Innocent! I am so prepared for this process that everything will turn into a twist that will give uniqueness to chance, that hook that will turn from a cliché into an investigation.

Before the trial began, prosecutor Childers, his face hardened and impenetrable, with a suit that looked like he had just pulled it out of the dirty laundry basket and short tie, told prosecutor Veltri that he was deeply troubled by the Romanian community in Houston. He was nothing more than a small prosecutor, who never imagined that he would have to solve a case of this