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in the last months I think I finally integrated what being home means, this being composed of different aspects, of course. 

I figured that, although strictly speaking my "hometown" is not where my actual address is, this "hometown" doesn't feel like home anymore. My "hometown" was never really home, but the place where all my family and relatives live in, and also where I mostly grew up. However I don't feel as if I belong there, and this last stay there just confirmed my thoughts and feelings. 

Today you bring up a topic very related to that: you mention that this whole corona-crisis has made you put your feet on the ground, and that you have figured that we don't belong where we live, and it's most probable that we go back. It's a little more than quarter past four, and I still can't figure out how to explain to you how much I dislike what you're saying and why. I guess a part of me somehow felt this coming since the last days of our stay. I thought "you're going to want to go back," and it's not wrong nor less, I just don't want to. 

it's just no. 

I knew this was going to happen, I knew that all this fuss with the house and everything would make you change your mind, or perhaps not change it, but make you consider more seriously going back. And I don't want to use the family card because it would cause a much bigger mess. 

I don't want to go back to a place where I can't feel safe to be myself, where I'll be again compromised to act one way or other, to have all the family's eyes and pressure upon every single decision, where I don't even like the climate, where I'm pretty sure my work won't be appreciated and my professional development would become almost inexistent. That's not the life I want, therefore it's not a reality I'm willing to accept.