LIGHTER SIDE
I can tell you exactly where I was when I heard the news that Zayn Malik was leaving One Direction: my kitchen (tbh it was pretty convenient considering there were massive amounts of ice cream, chocolate and other carbs at my fingertips). From there, the five stages of grief began.
1. Denial: Zayn could not be leaving One Direction. It was not possible: he’s the hottest, he’s the most mysterious, he’s the best singer. He is my everything. And now they’re saying that he’s just gone? That can’t be.
I know that when I go see them on tour in August, Zayn will be there for me. There is no way that he would ever leave me hanging without a proper goodbye at least. We have a special bond. You wouldn’t understand.
2. Anger: Going to school the next day was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Shouldn’t there be a three-to-four day grace period for mourning? When I walked in, I couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with everyone around me? How dare they function while my world was crumbling.
I finally cracked when my teacher said, “There are people in Africa who don’t have water, but here no one can stop talking about a dumb boy band breaking up.” I stood up and started screaming: Africa? Water? BREAKING UP?!? I don’t remember the specifics. I suffer from rage blackouts.
3. Bargaining: Take Louis, no one likes him anyway. Just not Zayn. Please not Zayn. I’ll do anything for him. Just name what you want and I will make it happen. Just give me a chance.
4. Depression: I’ve been for exactly 3 weeks, 1 day and 17 hours since I found out. A tear still comes to my eye whenever I see the letter Z. I can’t stop thinking about how 1D isn’t going to be able to hit any of the high notes without Zayn. They’re going to have to adapt a whole new sound, and honestly, I don’t know if the other members are talented enough to create one on their own.
5. Acceptance: I’m still waiting on this one. Pretty sure it’s not coming any time soon.