I'm Not Sure - Acoustic

Behind the Song

It begins in the hush of a late night, phone facedown, room too quiet, and thoughts drifting back to the same person like they never really left. Nothing has happened in that moment, yet everything feels heavy. There aren’t good words for it, only the same question running in circles. At the center is one simple truth: “I’m not sure.” Not sure how to explain what’s happening. Not sure what the feeling even is. Not sure if it’s love, habit, or the grip of someone who got under your skin. The song keeps returning to that line because that’s how real confusion works, you don’t solve it all at once. You replay it, you second-guess it, you try to talk yourself out of it, and you still end up right back there. All the way through, it’s a tug-of-war. One moment is spent wondering why you keep moving toward someone who keeps messing with your head. The next is realizing you can’t stop thinking about them even when you know you should. It isn’t framed as a perfect romance. It’s the kind of connection that makes you question your instincts. Small moments slip in like pieces of an overheard conversation: a “Hey” that hits harder than it should, a confession that sounds like a joke until it doesn’t, an invitation to come closer that somehow makes everything feel even more confusing. Every step forward comes with doubt right behind it. When an apology shows up, it doesn’t fix anything. It raises a worse question, whether saying “sorry” is just another way to keep someone close without changing. The words try to smooth it over fast, but the tension stays, because what’s said doesn’t match what’s felt. By the end, the circles finally stop, not with drama, but with exhaustion. Distance becomes the choice. Being alone starts to feel safer than staying in something that keeps cutting the same place open. “Nothing left for us, don’t call me” lands like a door closing, not out of spite, but out of finally choosing peace. It’s a story about wanting to reach out and knowing you shouldn’t, about not having a name for what you feel and still being pulled by it anyway. The uncertainty isn’t a flaw, it’s the point, and it’s left honest, unanswered.