Six years ago, Sharon got in her car and drove to meet Christopher, a guy she only knew from a MySpace page. But that didn't matter. In the month they had talked, he had the ability to make her feel special. At his apartment, he made stuffed peppers. They watched a movie. She really loved the stuffed peppers. Even better, she liked his company.
Three months later, they were official. Sharon supported Christopher, a musician, in all his bands. At one point, he was in a total of five. She went to every show she could. In return, he took Sharon, a graphic designer, to museums and watched her ooh and aah over all the work she admired.
"We're both individually passionate about our craft and our goals," Sharon says. "We like things that are slightly different."
In October 2010, the couple took a trip to northern California to hike through a redwood forest lined with massive thousand-year-old trees. Halfway through their early afternoon hike, they spotted a bench in the shade. As Sharon was snapping photos, Christopher pulled out a black diamond ring. As she turned around, she found Christopher on one knee. She said yes. They carved their initials into the bench.
Christopher and Sharon married next to the Center for Clay, an old St. Petersburg train station that has been converted into the largest working pottery studio in the Southeast, located right on the Pinellas Trail. The couple rode bikes to the site, where they would get hitched in a nontraditional, nonreligious ceremony.
Sharon sauntered down the aisle to a rock version of Here Comes the Bride. For their vows, they took turns reciting lines from a poem they picked out online. They said the last line together.
Their wedding bands were made out of white-tailed deer antlers. Inside, they were lined with redwood in remembrance of that misty California day when Christopher proposed.