Back in the US, always with that nagging feeling of ambiguity. This is home as in where my house is, but it's not where I love to be the most. Isn't that what a home is all about, a place where you feel like you belong, always?
My family is Italian, my blood is filled with the scents and impressions of beautiful Toscana.
And at the same time I know I'll get over it in a day or two and feel at home here as well. It's just the hours in between that kill me every time.