WHAT I HAVE TO SAY MYSELF

This is the third and final post on the Fourth Story of "The Snow Queen" that I will post.

The Fourth Story of "The Snow Queen" is a real tearjerker for me, because it reads like my own story: I am the kind of intellectual who shuts herself in her ivory tower and lets only a few chosen ones in.
Hailing from a sheltered and lonely background (autistic only child of divorced parents), I was and am stalked by members of the opposite sex, due to my economic status and voluptuous physique. I consider stalkers annoying, shallow little bastards who only care about absurd things like sex and drugs.

After reading "The Snow Queen IV", I usually read the Ovidian myth of Narcissus: a dashing young gent, the only son of a spring nymph, who would only have his equal for a partner... and was thus cursed to fall for his own reflection and the echo of his voice when he came to a certain pool to quench his thirst. Unable to reach the illusion he loved, and left alone by all suitors he had spurned, the blond lad slowly withered, until he became a flower.

These two stories read like the two sides of the same coin: what may happen at best and what may happen at worst to me when it comes to relationships. And when the yellow-petalled flower bows its chalice before the waters of the pool in the final lines, I burst into tears and release all my worries from my tightly-clenched chest.