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In late July - early August 1997, I visited St. Petersburg for the first time in reality.
The mother of our unborn child and I, being students of Moscow University, traveled from the Crimea to the north and on the way decided to see the city on the Neva.
Since childhood, I have dreamed of meeting my hero and, taking advantage of a suitable opportunity, I told my companion about it. She was more determined than I expected, took my hand and led me to Him.
It was not immediately possible to find him. He no longer lived at the first known address. But we still found out the real address, agreed through a proxy, and the next day we went to visit. Nevsky Prospekt, house, floor, door straight and to the left.
The door was opened by one of the sons, it seems it was Mark, although, perhaps, Gleb.
Naturally, because of my hyperemotionality, I took on too much.
Head, dizzy, eyes, blurred. We said hello, and then everything happened to me like in a dream. I remember looking at Him and listening. I remember how he smiled, how he spoke. My companion was not so charmed, and so she had to speak for both of us… In general, I watched and listened, listened and watched. My head was spinning more and more. In the end, I almost lost my head, well, at least, consciousness.
He then wore neither beard nor mustache, was completely thin, almost transparent. Probably, if it had been a month ago, I would have remembered the details. Probably, if it had been six months ago, I would have remembered the details. But, alas, it was in 1997.
An energy clot of an impenetrable, irresistible force remained in me. I remember the face, the body, the voice, the intonation, the smile. He wasn't just around. We mentally merged, became one. Whether He felt it, I don't know. It's enough for me that I felt it.