Stacy and Stacy

We were meant to marry each other…we even have the same name, Stacy told me last Saturday. Donned in her bridal gown, she was talking of her fiancé, Stacy. But you can call him Stacy Boy, she told me. She went on to recount meeting him in the seventh grade and dating him for three weeks. In the eighth grade, they were caught French-kissing by an arcade game. They escorted each other to their high school dances until Stacy Girl moved to California. Two years later, they met up by chance when Stacy Boy was choosing what California college to attend. From that day nine years ago, they dated exclusively, only to be married last Saturday, July 1, 2006 in Carlsbad.

The humidity was gradually shepherded away with the San Diego breeze as Stacy Girl paced the hotel room. I’ve waited so long for this day and now I can’t believe it’s here, she said as she rung her hands together. As soon as Stacy Girl finished dressing, she stepped outside to have a moment with her father. When he saw her, he cried. She cried. I cried. There was something painfully happy about the moment and—thankfully—my camera shielded the tears streaming down my cheeks.

Stacy and Stacy had a lovely wedding and everyone felt the bond they shared. Everyone at the wedding was a piece of their love story, a story that spanned 16 years. And a story that will no doubt carry on for many years to come.

Here are a few from their wedding…