was desperate for my loved one to get better, and I was tired of standing in the park shivering. I was starting to despise this place, as it transformed from the soothing foundation of my childhood into a reminder that I had been told I shouldn’t go inside my loved one’s home any longer. I was also shaking from immense shame. Shame, because days earlier, I had begged a police officer who had entered my loved one’s home to tell his fellow officers to never shoot. I had spoken to the officer at a mile a minute, listing every single one of my loved one’s credentials. A pitiful feeling had come
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