Is home the nation I have a passport for? the state I vote in? the town in my permanent address? the house I spent my childhood in? (But there are 4 of those.) Is home the room whose contents I determine and arrange? Is home the effective sphere of my will, the place where what I think actually counts, the place my decisions carry weight?
Is home my family? my friends? my belongings? the weather I know? the place whose streets I can navigate? Is home about the familiar and predictable? or is it about the controllable?
Is it about being loved and wanted? When none of the people I care about are there, is it still home?
Where will you be, when I get back?