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When I first saw this picture I felt a wave of severe nausea race through my body. It was like an evil spirit had taken over me. As a precaution, I was admitted to hospital. It was to be the first of many, many trips.
I didn't think much of my first hospitalisation but a few weeks later I came across a picture of Zayn in a scarf. All of sudden my legs went weak and I fainted right there and then in the queue at KFC for a family bucket of chicken wings. Not a day goes pass that I don't think about the bucket of chicken I lost that day.
And those words haunted me to my very core. When I saw this picture I was overcome with fear and anxiety and promptly fainted. Only this time I was in the queue for Chipotle Mexican Grill. During my descent, I knocked over a woman and covered myself in crispy corn tacos. I was literally a mess.
But I kept having hospitalisations. I was starting to think I might be allergic to Zayn. Could it be true?
I wasn't fainting or feeling nauseous. Then I realised I was looking at a wax work and it hit me like a lump of clay thrown by John Cena. It all seemed so strange.
And I wondered if Zayn's could stop me fainting? The thought alone made me drop to the floor like a hippo falling off a cliff.
and BAM! I was out cold again. I was starting to feel like a polar bear stranded on an ice berg, cast out to sea; alone, afraid and very hungry.
I went back to the early years when Zayn was untouched by weed, solo ambitions and Gigi Hadid but it was no use. I started having heart palpitations and blacked out.
The nurses asked why I didn't just stop looking at the pictures of Zayn? 'HOW COULD A PERSON DO THAT?' I exclaimed. I opened my wallet to show them this picture of Zayn winning the Outstanding Contribution to Music at the UK Asian Awards. But before I had the chance to show them, I caught a glimpse of his cherub face and fainted immediately. Another night in hospital it was.
And I liked it.
I loved it.
The more I fainted.
So I chose this one because of his hands. I always liked Zayn's hands. I imagined them peeling an orange or scratching a dog behind it's ears. I imagined him doing both things at the same time. You can probably guess what happened next.
They jokingly referred to it as 'cold zany'. I didn't find it funny, mostly because it was a terrible pun. 'Zayn' sounds nothing like 'turkey'. They were obviously complete idiots. I went back to my old ways of looking up pictures and falling into long, dark Zayndreams.
It was here that I saw the first pictures of Zayn with a shaved blond head. He looked like an angel flown down from heaven via a branch of Louis Vuitton. I fell head first into my family bucket of chicken wings. History was repeating itself.
It couldn't go on forever. It started off well. But I had forgotten to turn off my Zarry Google alerts. I was found slumped against a bin in Hyde Park. It seemed a fitting location considering I am Zarry trash.
I WISH I KNEW HOW TO QUIT YOU! *faints*
Thankfully, I had padded every surface with bubble wrap and trained my dog, Zerrie, to call an ambulance. Clever girl.
They would send pictures of 1D to tease me. Back to hospital I went.
They started calling my house pretending to be Zayn. I was trapped.
It would never stop. I would always be fainting at Zayn Malik pictures, no matter how hard I tried.
Things have been tough. Real tough. The fainting has continued and Zayn continues to stalk my days and nights like a Himalayan snow leopard. My only comfort during this awful time has been KFC Chicken buckets and the new Little Mix album. Please keep me in your prayers.