Thread by @EliMcCann

I lived in Russia one summer and one day I went to see Lenin's body on Red Square (he has been preserved and you can see him through a glass case and it's truly wild). While I was standing in line this guy about my age offered to share his umbrella with me because it was raining.

I was 25 and closeted (and would be for another 5 years). The guy was from a small town in Siberia, visiting the big city on vacation. He was cute and he spoke about as much English as I spoke Russian (rough) so we communicated in a messy mix of both.

We were in that line for about 45 minutes before we saw Lenin so by the time we made it through the excursion, we had become familiar with one another. His name was Oleg and I really liked him so I was perfectly happy to spend the rest of the day with him wandering Moscow.

I had a guide book and we spent hours under his umbrella finding obscure old Orthodox churches, huddling in the back of them, and reading about the art and architecture. We went to a museum. We found an underground coffee shop where we sipped hot chocolate together.

He told me all about his life in his Siberian town and how hard it was for him because he felt like he didn't fit in with anyone. I told him I knew the feeling. We eventually made our way back to Red Square where we realized it was now past midnight.

Oleg told me he had to get back to his hostel. He hugged me and kissed me on the cheek and then took off in a jog around the left side of St. Basil's Cathedral. I can still hear the thump of his footsteps echoing off the walls. We didn't exchange info. I never saw him again.

It's so obvious to me now that we were both so severely closeted and living in places and phases of life where we absolutely did not feel safe coming out. I've told people this story over the years and they usually say it sounds so "romantic." But it wasn't romantic.

It was sweet and comfortable and safe. I feel sad for Oleg because I can only imagine how much more difficult his journey in the 12 years since has been than my own. But I also feel incredibly grateful to him for the day he decided to share his umbrella and himself with me.

No big dramatic end to this little story. Just remembering it tonight and feeling sappy and thankful to the Olegs who happen upon us and help us prepare for the life we'll eventually earn. I hope I gave him something worth remembering, too.