好きだ Sukida

Suddenly, I couldn’t sit still or stand still.

居ても立っても居られず is an idiom for being too agitated or emotional to stay composed. It gives the opening immediate urgency.

So I sent an SOS to a friend.

The English borrowing gives the line a youthful, dramatic, everyday feel.

I want you to listen to me.

〜て欲しい is a straightforward “want someone to...” construction. The explanatory んだ adds emotional insistence.

After all, as for me, it’s him that...

The line trails into the confession rather than closing neatly. やっぱり suggests returning recognition or “after all.”

“I know that already. I’ve heard it so many times.”

The friend’s reply is brisk and unsentimental. It immediately tells us this is not the first confession crisis.

That kind of shallow reaction...

薄っぺらい means thin, shallow, superficial. It gives the speaker’s irritation a casual sharpness.

Even if you get calluses on your ears from hearing it, I don’t care, so...

耳にタコが出来る is a Japanese idiom for hearing something over and over until you are tired of it.

Listen, I can’t hold it in anymore.

我慢出来ない means being unable to endure or restrain oneself. The energy is impulsive and very spoken.

Now then, on to my fourth confession to him.

いざ dramatizes the moment a little, almost like gearing up for battle. The fact that it is the fourth confession is both funny and painful.

A one-sided love with little hope is nothing but bitter.

期待薄い literally means expectations are thin or low. 苦い brings in the emotional-metaphorical taste of bitterness.

It’s fine if we’re just friends.

This is the kind of compromise wording people use to survive disappointment.

Just exchanging a single word as we pass each other by.

すれ違いざま is a nice compact adverbial phrase for the moment of passing by someone.

That only that would be enough...

なんて here marks quoted self-talk. The speaker is reflecting on what she told herself, with a hint of self-critique.

...that’s what I thought, and yet.

のに marks frustrated contrast. This tiny line is where the self-protective story starts collapsing.

Your voice won’t leave my head.

頭から離れない is a very natural Japanese expression for something you cannot stop thinking about.

Ah, ah.

The vocalized refrain lets feeling overflow where normal speech stalls.

If only I had never, not even once, conveyed my feelings to you...

もしも signals a counterfactual “if only” frame. The wording now shifts into imagined revision of the past.

...if I had not told you at all.

〜たらなあ has a wistful, regretting tone. It is softer and more emotional than a plain conditional.

A confession one has grown used to is not at all...

慣れた makes the central tragedy very clear: confession is supposed to be special, but repetition has worn away its freshness.

...something that makes your heart flutter, right?

ときめく is one of the classic Japanese verbs for romantic excitement. The line uses a very familiar love-word in a self-conscious way.

The first time I told you how I felt was ten years ago.

This is where the timeline opens up. What sounded like ordinary school-crush frustration now reveals a much longer history.

I was far too innocent back then.

無邪気 means innocent, naive, carefree. The speaker is re-evaluating her younger self with painful hindsight.

The next one, five years ago, was too casual too...

軽すぎた suggests being too light, too casual, not emotionally weighty enough. し keeps the evaluation going.

And the one three years ago was the same.

The repeated failed confessions become a pattern rather than isolated embarrassments. That repetition matters throughout the page.

If only I could redo absolutely everything from the roots up...

根こそぎ means thoroughly, by the roots, completely. The wish is not for a small correction, but a total reset.

Come on, it’s time travel, back to that day.

The English borrowing keeps the line light on the surface, even though the surrounding grammar is about trying to undo the past.

Let’s take back that very first confession.

取り返す is to take back, recover, or win back. The line treats past speech almost as something that can be repossessed.

Make all of it, all of it, into something that never happened.

無かったことにする is a very common Japanese expression for treating something as if it never happened. It often sounds practical, but here it is used on something emotionally loaded.

That would be fine.

A firm attempt at self-persuasion. The explanatory んだ gives it the sound of someone trying to convince herself.

Would that really be fine, though?

〜だっけ often marks recalled questioning. It makes the line sound less certain and more like thinking aloud.

My chest aches a little, but...

The wording shifts from planning language back into body-based feeling.

Even if I have been rejected and disappointed again and again...

フラれる is the everyday colloquial verb for being romantically rejected or dumped. The casualness of the word makes the pain feel lived-in rather than melodramatic.

Even if I have repeated those bitter feelings...

苦い想い continues the bitterness metaphor from earlier. The same taste image is reused rather than replaced.

Each time, the things I came into contact with that you liked...

その度 means “each time that happened.” It lets the line sum up a repeated pattern rather than one isolated event.

...had, before I knew it, become things I liked too.

いつしか means “before one realizes it.” The relationship changed the speaker even without the desired romantic outcome.

That has become an irreplaceable treasure of who I am now.

宝物 can mean treasure in a very personal sense. Using it here reevaluates earlier events in much more positive terms.

It’s okay even if I fail.

This is an important turn because the wording becomes less about correction and more about saying the feeling plainly.

I’ll say it one more time.

もう一度 is simple, but after all the repetition in the song it carries both courage and persistence.

As for me, it’s you that I...

The line stops just before 好きだ, which makes the omission louder than a complete sentence would be. A lot of the pressure sits in that unfinished grammar.