I shuffled through songs in the car as I searched for parking in Beverly Hills on a Tuesday afternoon. The stakes were high. I needed the perfect song to end my drive with. As I heard the first chords, I knew the shuffle gods had not abandoned me, as much as I felt like God, good ol’ Hashem, may have. The song always made me smile. I had known The Musician back when I studied music in Colombia.

Just enough musicians have been in and out of my dating pool to make this difficult to pinpoint– for those who know me and may be wondering who I’m talking about. I was the only Jew at my little music conservatory in Bogotá, a Berklee College of Music sister school, where Musician and I took a couple of classes together. He was a bit younger than me at a time when I exclusively dated older men. Musician always asked me about my long-distance boyfriend, and I did my best to hide that the relationship had grown sour. We partnered together on assignments and scribbled games on each other’s notebooks to pass the time. For me, it was completely platonic.

Musician’s first hit song came out of nowhere. I was already living in Los Angeles when I heard it. I immediately loved it, but it took me a moment to register his voice. Scrambling through my contacts, I realized I didn’t have his number and wondered if I ever did. I remember his........

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