Huidiza is an adjective meaning 'elusive' or 'fleeing'. It's a less common, more poetic word than typical synonyms, adding a layer of depth and intrigue.
In the song, the lyric "Huidiza de mis caricias" (Elusive from my caresses) paints a vivid picture of someone who is constantly slipping away, avoiding intimacy. It beautifully captures the pain of unrequited affection or a lost connection, making it a memorable and emotionally resonant word.
Dani Martín built this as a letter to someone who is gone, and the whole song is made of news he wishes he could pass on. "Que 'El Canto' ya se acabó" (that 'El Canto' is over now), "Que papá sigue siendo el líder" (that dad is still the boss), "Que mamá ahora es artista" (that mom is an artist now). He files a report on himself too, cheerfully: "Y que yo canto aún peor" (and that I sing even worse). This is the small domestic stuff you tell somebody on an ordinary Tuesday, which is the day the song keeps returning to: "Que me acuerdo cada Martes / Cuando comíamos los dos" (that I remember every Tuesday, when the two of us used to eat together).
The details are too particular to be about anyone else. A fleece jacket, a street called Luna, a nickname: "Que están muy bien nuestros padres / Pero nos faltas Ratón" (our parents are doing fine, but we miss you, Ratón). Then the chorus stops listing news and starts asking things nobody can answer, like "Dónde habré guardado los besos esos que te quise dar" (where could I have put those kisses I wanted to give you). The line that lands hardest is the one that sounds like a plan: "Te espero siempre en la escalera donde me solías gritar" (I always wait for you on the stairs where you used to shout at me). He still turns up.