Inavoué translates to "unacknowledged" or "unconfessed." It's a nuanced word that goes beyond simply
"Je t'aime" opens on a breakup already agreed to — "D'accord, il existait / D'autres façons de se quitter" [Okay, there were other ways to break up] — before the singer talks herself out of it. She traces old wounds back through a childhood image, "Tu me bordais, me protégeais" [You tucked me in, kept me safe], and a startling confession, "Je t'ai volé ce sang / Qu'on aurait pas dû partager" [I stole that blood from you, that we never should've shared], before the chorus breaks the tension wide open: "Comme un fou, comme un soldat / Comme une star de cinéma" [Like a madman, like a soldier, like a movie star].
The song's real subject is the gap between how she loves and who she actually is: "Comme un homme que je ne suis pas" [Like a man I'm not], a line that turns every repeated "je t'aime" into something closer to a dare than a declaration. By the bridge, even the imagery turns sacrilegious — "Satan nous regardait danser" [Satan watched us dancing] — and the song ends less as a love song than as an argument for loving recklessly anyway.