MADRID, Oct 23, 2010 / — In the beginning her cheeks were pink, her eyes shone, her lips kissed and her hair fell softly on her shoulders like gold. In the beginning, she held a bouquet of orchids brought from paradise, everyone gazed on her at the altar, everyone dreamt of her and she dreamt of HIM.
In the beginning she was happy. He made her happy. He left, never to return, and her cheeks ceased to be pink, her hair no longer fell with the same subtlety and the gold disappeared.
The orchids withered and that paradise no longer existed. The altar turned into hell and the Virgin who protected her turned her back on her. Rivers of tears would not suffice to describe how much she cried.
Dusk was her death. She dreamt she saw her loved one’s boat, she dreamt she saw him returning and she would go down and embrace him drowning her sighs and turning them into a breeze of love.
Her fiancé never returned. He was taken by a rough sea that was in love with him, a jealous sea, a wretched sea that condemned her to decades of sadness. A sea that is unforgiving when rejected. An infallible sea that separated them for ever.
There were other men, more than one, who tried to make her happy again but they could not. They were not HIM, she searched but it was impossible. Entire nights spent dreaming dreams that never came true. She continued to watch the dusk while a tear fell; she pressed her rosary and said to herself over and over again: DON’T FORGET ME.
Photos courtesy of Cibeles Madrid Fashion Week