Middle of Starting Over

There's a weightlessness to this track that belies its emotional depth — acoustic guitar fingerpicking anchors the arrangement while subtle strings drift in and out like half-remembered thoughts. The production keeps everything intimate, close-miked and unhurried, as if the song is being sung in a small room rather than performed for an audience. Sabrina's voice here is at its most unguarded: a soft, slightly breathy soprano that leans into vulnerability without tipping into fragility. She sounds like someone who has just made a decision they're not entirely sure about, and that ambivalence is the song's entire texture. The lyrical core circles around the strange vertigo of beginning again — not triumphant, not defeated, but suspended in the moment just before momentum takes over. It captures the emotional liminal space of someone who has outgrown something and hasn't yet grown into what comes next. This is a song for late-night drives when the city has gone quiet, or for the morning after a significant ending when the silence feels both terrifying and full of possibility. It belongs to the early 2020s singer-songwriter revival — confessional pop stripped of production armor — and sits comfortably alongside artists who learned that restraint can carry more weight than spectacle. The song rewards headphones and solitude.