Sangrona

We have a word for the sullen, visibly angry or brusque woman. [From the Real Academia, in case you don't believe me... and for those who land on this page looking for a definition.]

We call her sangrona (him, sangron).

It's more than aloof or unfriendly because it is that noticeably hostile undertone that you see and feel in the look, the attitude, the way she breathes in, disgruntled, no matter what you do or say.

She lets you know without ever addressing a word to you.

Don't try to break through.

There is no room for discussion, explanation, reconsideration or reprieve.

Don't bother to try to be her friend.

You will strive to be brought down every time.

She wants you to know that there is something truly distasteful in your simply being. And you should know how unacceptable you are.

I keep thinking some day she will see.

But she won't, and it really isn't about me or you or anyone else but her.

I am still wondering why, knowing as I do that there is not discernible rhyme or reason, I still care.

So why can't you just let it go?

Where is my compassion for her?