It goes without saying that marriage requires a lot of sharing -- of bookshelves, closet space, finances, bodily fluids, and the like. But lately I've noticed that aside from money, of which my husband earns far more than I, I share a lot more with him than he does with me, and it's always been that way. Just today, he grabbed the first scarf he saw and didn't bother to notice it was, in fact, mine.
It started ages ago with little things -- mostly with my unisex T-shirts: the Cornell shirt I was given during "Minority Weekend 1994" and Columbia's pre-orientation backpacking program (COÖP). From there, it moved on to my Sony Discman (remember those?); my favorite Art Institute of Chicago mug; and my Entertainment Weekly (first full-time job!) gym bag. Over the years, I've discovered that thanks to my swag-laden occupation, there's a never-ending supply of stuff the husband snags for himself.
If you were to bump into my husband on the street, you'd probably see him in a movie or film-festival T-shirt and cap. And I kinda love that this is what our relationship is -- exchanging everything we can with each other, from the mundane to the most intimate.