Saudade

So I guess the good news is I'm back home, or at least back at my place, cause I don't really know anymore where is home. I have moved so much, seen so many places. And still, last time I really felt at home, was last year cycling in the rain in my beloved Amsterdam. Is it possible that I'm so attached to a place where I lived for so little time? I keep going back in my mind to the voku nights at the Commelinstraat, to that summer in the Zeeburgerkade, playing music next to the fire at a place that now is destroyed. I keep dreaming to move back there. Although it was such a different life, I never felt I belonged so much to a place. I have lived in six countries, but I never felt freer and happier than living upstairs the MKZ, crossing Vondelpark every day, walking to the Amsterdamse Bos, cycling to the Kennemerland. Can I be cured of nostalgia? I should have been Portuguese, then saudade would have been ok. It's not that I'm unhappy or that I don't treasure my present life. It's about belonging. I know those times will never come back, but maybe I should just come back to the place where I found myself.
What's there for me now? How many times you need to move around until it's enough? Until you find home?

@pdesormeaux