I first heard What Makes You Beautiful when I was in 2nd grade, and stupidly enough, I didn't like it. What's the big fuss about some teenaged boys singing at the beach? Nothing.
I heard Best Song Ever and I danced like there was no tomorrow in 5th grade, and then I felt Story of My Life was sad. But I didn't understand what it meant, or how much I'll be falling in love with these five boys in the near future.
In 7th grade, I heard about some guy leaving, some new song called Drag Me Down and then some band going on a break, and it didn't bother me much because they were just a bunch of rich singers.
8th Grade came, and Drag Me Down would play early in the morning on my school speakers of all places. Probably the first of their songs that I knew all the words to, but duh, who cares. And then one day when life got too hard, Rhea told me about this little boy band she's been obsessed with. And my egoistic 13 year old self pretended not to like it much. Then one day I found myself singing something called You & I that she'd forced me to listen to, and then I heard more of their songs, and then the old video diaries, and interviews and all of a sudden my life was full of Liam, Niall, Louis, Zayn and Harry.
One Direction pulled me through so much. I found myself obsessing over Little Things, it made me feel loved. I loved dancing to She's Not Afraid, imagining 18 playing when I would eventually fall in love some day, hoping one day I'd have as much fun as they did in the Live While We're Young video. I wanted to do nothing more than go to a One Direction concert when they would reunite.
The solo music came along then, and I loved every bit of it, but every night, right before I slept, I'd pray for a One Direction reunion, all five of them together.
It was all I wanted until Nanaji passed away. After that I wanted to kill myself every day, and I tried but failed every time. But these boys were here, pulling me through it. I prayed each night that I wouldn't wake up the next morning, but I did, every damn day. And these five got me through each day, making sure I was okay, even though they didn't even know I existed.
I got psychiatric help and eventually did get better for a while, and every day I danced my heart out to One Direction, and their solo songs. I even did that little fangirl scream after months, when I found out they were going to dance to Strip That Down on my seniors' farewell party. Mom and Dad would go to the temple after dinner, and that was our time, those 30 minutes each night. My silly ass would wait for them to leave, stick a picture of One Direction on the wall, plug in a pen drive to the TV and dance. The first time Where We Are was on Vh1, I sat on the floor so that I could feel like I was 'in the audience'. I didn't care if everyone thought I was crazy. I was happy, and I wanted to stay that way. Mannya did eventually get bored, maybe even moved on, but I didn't. I didn't need to when I have them, the best thing I could have had. And to have a video with Story Of My Life playing as the background music on my own Graduation Day with a picture collage of all my memories at school from 12 years? Absolute happiness. I met my new best friend, converted her to a Directioner, and it was just us and our favourite boys, doing everything nice. Nothing mattered except for the fact that my crazy little mind thought I could marry Niall and become best friends with Louis, Liam, Harry and Zayn.
COVID-19 was horrible. Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come and how everything would go wrong. I was back to being depressed to the point that I wouldn't get out of bed unless it was to use the washroom. My family had their own troubles and it was just me, getting through things I couldn't explain to anyone. I was slowly losing interest in everything, even One Direction, and it was hurting me so much. I didn't want to live, but still, I hoped one day I could be okay again. I loved and supported the boys through it but there was always more on my mind, and I felt like I wasn't being the best fan, but I tried.
I'd only recently started doing better. I lived alone for almost six months, and it made me find myself again. And every chance I had, there was a One Direction song playing. Things were nowhere close to what they had been before 2020 but I was hoping I could change it. I'm almost old enough to get a job, and I would get myself and my family out of this mess. And probably, hopefully, still get a chance to see One Direction together. I still hoped for it after almost 9 years. Because they still make me happy. They've been the ones to get me out of situations where I wanted to kill myself, situations that I never discussed with anyone, not even my best friend.
Liam is not doing okay. I could see it. The amount of hate that he has been getting recently is disgusting. Nobody seems to care about what it could do to his confidence, and it scares me. People learnt nothing from Johnny Depp and Amber Heard's case. It worries me and I wish I were rich enough to get on a plane and see him and tell him I trust him and I love him and nobody in the world can ever tell me he could be so wrong.
I can't put into words the things that I have been feeling today. You have been pushing him too far. The man that makes my life better is suffering. To wake up to this news is not something I could have imagined. It's horrible, and I don't think I can ever recover. I think I can't trust anyone now, that I can't rely on anyone anymore. Maybe next time there won't be anyone to pull me out of things when they get too much. Maybe that could be a good thing. Because maybe I could go where he has gone and hopefully give him that hug, and tell him that I trusted him, and I can never hate him.