When Zarema first began writing “Closure” in late 2020, the world was in lockdown and hospitals were closed to visitors. Families were separated from loved ones in their final moments. She was among them.

The Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter lost a close family member to COVID-19 during the earliest days of the pandemic. There was no bedside goodbye. No final conversation. The experience became the foundation for one of her most personal songs to date.

“I was processing my own family’s loss and hearing about other people’s similar experiences and how they felt after such a loss. I was inspired to write a song about the whole experience,” Zarema said.

Now, several years later, she is revisiting that moment through a new lens. The David Alexander remix of “Closure,” along with an extended version designed for immersive listening, reintroduces the song in a more atmospheric, club-ready space. The remix follows an earlier Vic Latino version released in October and arrives ahead of the official original version produced by John Russell.

The timing reflects distance, both emotional and artistic.

“Experiencing grief myself made me want to describe the experience and the feelings involved, but even more than that, I wanted to reach out with empathy to other people going through the same thing,” she said. “Over time, I have reached some level of closure. It was largely facilitated by the empathy other people showed me, which makes me even more motivated to express my own empathy in my music.”

The title suggests resolution, but the song does not promise neat answers. Instead, it examines the uneasy space between loss and acceptance.

During the pandemic, Zarema said she heard stories that stayed with her. 

“During COVID-19, many people, including friends of mine, lost loved ones to the illness,” she said. “One friend told me they couldn’t bear to delete their son’s phone number after losing him to COVID-19, and that inspired the lyrics, ‘Can’t delete that number on your phone, You’re hoping they’re still there,’ and ‘Took every picture off the wall, Learning how to live with letting go.’”

The song’s reach extends beyond bereavement.

“It’s not only for people who have lost a loved one,” she said. “It’s also relatable for people who have had a sudden breakup or some other unexpected tragedy. I wouldn’t say my understanding of the need for closure has evolved, but for me the visceral need for closure has subsided.”

That distinction matters. The urgency that fueled the song has softened, but the theme remains intact. The remix gives the track a different emotional frame without altering its core.

David Alexander’s reinterpretation pushes “Closure” into melodic house territory. The remix expands the instrumentation and adds space for repetition and atmosphere. The extended version stretches the emotional arc even further.

Zarema said the shift felt natural.

“I love listening to music when I’m driving in heavy LA traffic or along the Pacific Coast Highway. The extended remix offers a longer version of the song,” she said. “I’m always open to collaborating with new producers, and I thought David was talented and had done some really great work. He brought a new style to ‘Closure,’ and I really like it. I’ve been told it has a ‘melodic house’ style. It’s kind of sad but dreamy, and at the same time danceable.”

The remix does not dilute the song’s grief. Instead, it reframes it. The rhythm invites movement while the lyrics hold steady.

For Zarema, deciding to open a personal song to reinterpretation requires distance.

“Every song I write is somewhat personal to me, so I have to get to a point where I’m comfortable sharing it with others,” she said. “Once I’m there, the more listeners I can share it with, the greater the chance it might reach someone who can benefit from it.”

The extended remix introduces an additional bridge, offering listeners more time inside the song’s emotional core. Zarema said the longer format allows space for reflection that a standard pop structure may not always provide.

“The extended mix allows more time for the listener to focus on the concepts I’m trying to convey and, hopefully, take them to heart,” she said. “It also allowed me to introduce a melodic, emotional bridge that I hope listeners will enjoy.”

The added lyrics read:

“If you had a chance to say goodbye and all of your regrets
If you had a chance to hold them close before they left
If you had a chance just one more time to look them in the face
If you had a chance to say your love will never end”

The repetition underscores the central tension of the song. The hypothetical chance to say goodbye. The unfinished conversations that linger.

For listeners who bring their own experiences of loss, Zarema hopes the exchange feels mutual.

“I hope they feel reassured that they’re not alone, and that many others have experienced similar losses,” she said. “I hope they feel seen and heard, valued by others, and that they’re not suffering alone.”

Zarema’s approach to empathy is not confined to a single event. Born in exile in Soviet Uzbekistan to a Crimean Tatar family, she returned to Crimea after the collapse of the USSR. Her community had been forcibly deported decades earlier under Stalin.

That history informs her sense of injustice and identification with others’ pain.

“Growing up in a place where my family, along with the entire nation of Crimean Tatars, had been forcibly deported, and being part of a marginalized minority group has caused me to immediately identify when I see injustice or oppression inflicted on others, and has made me particularly empathetic to the suffering of innocent people,” she said.

Her career has since spanned Crimea, Turkey and Los Angeles. She signed with Sony BMG Turkey and performed for large audiences across Eastern Europe before relocating to the United States. In Los Angeles, she expanded into acting and voice work. She is a SAG-AFTRA member with credits that include network television and streaming productions.

That dual career shapes how she approaches songwriting.

“Acting requires you to immerse yourself in a single character and the narrative around them,” she said. “This process also requires a sense of empathy and an understanding of the emotions of someone other than yourself. Songwriting involves some of that as well, and I find myself imagining how other people feel in certain hypothetical situations and what they need emotionally.”

In “Closure,” she draws from both lived experience and observation. The result feels specific without being narrow.

Zarema previously released “I Hold You Child,” another emotionally focused work. She does not see “Closure” as a departure from her past themes.

“Emotion has always been at the core of much of my songwriting, and compassion for the vulnerable and less fortunate is a thread that runs through both of those songs,” she said. “These are concepts I feel strongly about at this stage in my life, and they inspire me to share them with others in my lyrics.”

The original version of “Closure” is still forthcoming. For Zarema, the relationship between the original and its remixes offers listeners multiple entry points.

“The original, as well as each of the remixes, tells the story in a slightly different way, some more moody or brooding, some more danceable and upbeat,” she said. “Each inspires the listener to focus on the idea of closure from a slightly different angle, or a different mood. One thing I especially like about the extended remix is the emotional bridge I added that contrasts with the rest of the song. I like how it captures my emotions each time I hear it.”

“Closure” stands as a layered project rather than a single release. It moves between ballad and dance track, private grief and shared experience.

For Zarema, the purpose remains consistent.

“My music expresses my empathy for other people,” she said. “I hope it comforts them, and for others, I hope it inspires genuine empathy in themselves. It’s such a fundamental part of the human condition.”

In revisiting “Closure,” she is not rewriting the past. She is expanding it. The remix does not change the story of loss. It adds another way to sit with it.