Caught Between Vows and a Dancefloor
You may remember I hinted at it in an earlier post: my friend Micky got married. I met him at a place many of us used to frequent, back before the inevitable SL drama reshuffled the furniture of that social circle. Like it tends to do. What made this day special was seeing that group still together and be there for Micky, to watch him marry KyleRose. For the longest time she had been something of a myth to us, affectionately filed under “that girlfriend from another high school.” Very real, often mentioned, never seen. Until now. And she was absolutely stunning.
Together, Micky and KyleRose looked as if the entire venue had been designed with them in mind. The setting was gorgeous without trying too hard, striking that rare balance between elegant and warm. Coming from someone who usually breaks into a light jog at the first sign of cheesiness, consider this high praise.
I arrived as a guest. I might have become the unofficial photographer. The ceremony itself was largely held in voice, which of course didn’t work for me. Fortunately, a friend kept me quietly updated throughout, making sure I didn’t miss the important beats.
When the vows were exchanged and the collective emotional exhale settled in, we moved to the reception. Now, you should know one thing about me: if I spot a DJ, it is go-time. This is not always compatible with formal traditions like “who is allowed on the dance floor first.” So there I was, quietly embassed while lingering politely at the side. A skill I have not fully mastered.
But as the evening unfolded, formality loosened its tie, heels were kicked off, and what started as a reception turned into a genuinely great party. Micky and KyleRose, thank you for letting us be part of it. If the joy of this day is any indication, you are off to a beautiful start.
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An attribution and a link back to this awesome place are appreciated.
