Please, my dear husband, be so generous as to let me have a little world of my own. If you find me scrawling on a piece of paper, please don’t peep over my shoulders. It may be that I’m venting some pent-up feelings, long denied expression, or trying to compose a little poem not yet presentable for the time being, or attempting to sketch out something visualized from my childhood memories which glows in my mind like a rainbow. When I am in such a mood, please leave me alone and let me write as the pen dictates.
Don’t disturb me, my dear, when I get nostalgic over some old photos or letters which bring tears to my eyes or smiles on my lips, for those were things that had happened to me before I met you, the joys and sorrows, partings and reunions that taste like green olive or glitter like scattered pearl. They are my cherished memories which, ready as I am to share with you, I would like to indulge in by myself for a while.
I hope you won’t mind when I go without you for a nice chat with a close friend of mine. You are my bosom friend, but you cannot take the place of other friends any more than they can do yours. I need their care, encouragement and sobering criticism just as I do yours. A starless sky with a solitary moon would be dull and cheerless, why not let there be a moonlit night resplendent with twinkling stars?
I may occasionally want to make a tour of faraway places. Please don’t hold me back when I start packing for it. You are the center of my life, but certainly not the whole of it. I yearn to see the mysteries and wonders of the world miles away beyond the mountains; so let me have a chance to explore my “Alice’s Wonderland” as a “long range”. Some time later when I come back to you with exotic experiences and fresh insights, I’m sure you will look at me in a new light.
My dear husband, so long as you let me have a such a little, little world, I’ll be very much indebted to you.