There are some pains that run so deep that they defy description. You can tell me not to take it personally, but it's my life, our life together that has been impacted. You lie to me  that you did your job, never thinking that I would double check. Now I am a writer at a loss for words for all the rage that has turned my insides to water. 

You have never met me or my husband. You have refused our requests to schedule an appointment, so we remain nothing more than another folder moldering on your desk. Yet, you hold our hopes, our hearts in your grubby hands. How do you sleep?