Admittedly, Roxette pushes my insistence of sincerity to the breaking point. But bear with me. When I heard “Must Have Been Love” on the radio, I was ten years old, riding in the backseat of my sister’s light brown Honda Civic. We were coming home from the beach where, for the first time in my life, I had spent time with a girl I liked, that liked me too. The world felt open in a way that made my stomach hurt. A song about heartbreak, by a Swedish pop rock band, shrunk things down to a manageable closeness. The song can still give me goosebumps.