I've never felt the sense of belonging back home. Even when I was just a kid I used to feel like a fledgling that could take off anytime one day and never return. So, I regarded home and the people around with that amused sympathy typical of roamers.
With some misguided sense of manners and etiquettes instilled from early years by an anglophile mother, I hated the degree of crudeness in the people around me. Sometimes I wondered whether the whole sense of not belonging was a defense against the crudeness in people that I was forced to accept as a part of the living experience here.
During my stay in Europe, I never felt a part of it either. I constantly felt alien, despite the accommodating nature of Italians. Observing the immigrants, who were people like the ones back home, reluctant to adopt the European civility, I felt ill at ease due to the fact that I was one of them. And I felt helpless that how much ever I consider myself separate and behave so, I'll still be an immigrant, a broad species that covers a wide variety of personalities amongst which I detested being classified.
It is than that I started wondering where I really belonged. Perhaps, if they ever colonise some uninhabited planet, I could be settle there happily among the first inhabitants and feel truly at home.