They got the story wrong. They usually do, but they don't usually screw them up this badly.
It's a beautiful story,if you look at it right. A man imagines his ideal mate. creates her form with his own hands. and his love and faith are enoug to bring her to life. Stone to living, breathing flesh, to happy ever after.
We'll ignore the "no woman is perfect, you have to build one to find one" implication.
That's not how it happens, though.
I loved him, you see, but he never felt the same way about me. I was stupid enough to keep on loving him, keep on hoping, month after month, year after year.
That's how a living,breathing heart gets turned to stone.
Galatea surpassed and moved beyond him. It hurt, especially because she loved him. But she was growing and could grow no further with him.
Years to come she would look back fondly on their time together but never question that she was her own individual who could be happy without him.
Thanks, Faust. I'm getting past it, this was more dissection of the past than where I'm at, now.
The stone is a useful cocoon, for awhile, anyway.
Stones are also good for music with rocks in it.