I learned to waltz in a school play in 6th grade, around the same time I got my first real crush — which, true to its name, crushed me. (1/4)

That chaos of the body and brain grasped for any semblance of order, and it found it in the steady 1-2-3 of the waltz. To my ears, ¾ will always be a romantic time signature. (2/4)

In the case of Jana Horn’s “Leaving Him,” the romance is not a shout — look at the song title, after all — but a whisper: the timid kiss of the drumstick on the hi-hat, the gauzy vibraphone, the way Horn softens around the letter “t.” (3/4)

As if not to disturb someone while they sleep. (4/4)