I haven't thought about anything but One Direction in nearly a month.

 I liked Liam Payne when he first auditioned for the X Factor in 2008. He had a lovely voice, and sang old fashioned songs other 14 year old boys wouldn't have known. I didn't like him enough then, however, to realise that in 16 years time, and at the big age of 24, I'd be buying a teddy bear and naming it after him. That I'd be sitting on the floor of my parents' living room and crying quietly to myself, because he'd fallen from a balcony and died so far from home.

I'm telling myself it's the unemployment. Or the living back in my childhood bedroom for the first time in years. Perhaps I wouldn't be feeling this way if I hadn't left my mind to become so idle and reflective. 

I remember the day Take Me Home was released. I woke up early enough to go to the shop before school, for the first and only time in the seven years I was a student there. I met my friend Olivia, and we ran straight to the CDs. I was so excited that the moment I had it in my hands it fell right out of them and broke on the floor. Olivia, in her panic, tried to convince me to put the pieces in my pocket and run. I’ll assure you, however, that the album I treasure to this day (though not the one I dropped) was, in fact, paid for.

In the last few weeks, I’ve been listening to every album on my walks to Morrison's, watching the X Factor video diaries whilst I eat my lunch, and falling asleep to endless moments from shows and interviews, none of which I've never seen before. Yesterday, I checked my Spotify stats, and all ten of my top songs from the last four weeks were by either One Direction, or a former member of One Direction. (That being said, C'mon C'mon has been a steady contender on that list for several years now).

I like that it's something that bonds girls my age even now. Even if we didn't know each other then. I like guessing who my friends' favourite members were as little girls (though, when most of your friends are Irish, it's often a fairly easy game to play). 

Somehow, it's easier now, to comprehend what was so magical about the five of them. To me, and to all my friends. I understand why my best friend had (truly terrible) hand drawn portraits of them all blu-tacked to her wardrobe doors, and why when she rang rang me from inside Manchester Arena on the Take Me Home tour, I was so overwhelmed I barley said a word.

There was something quite lovely, really, about screaming and giggling over boys who had grown up not so far from us, with families not unlike our own.

It was all lovely.

I'm gonna miss him so much.