[And the topic is brought up once again. Restrictive. That isn't what he'd consider a typical description of returning home to someplace that you only remember in memories. Aware that he needs to carefully tread here, he gives a little of himself to see what he'll get in return.]
We moved a lot. Often without much notice at all. Never much time to make friends before we packed up and were gone again. Home wasn't exactly a place, it was the people who were always with you. I don't think walking back into any of those places would give me a sense of 'home'.
[He reaches down to grab her bag, pulling it over his shoulder and implying that she needed to stand up.]
You normally restricted yourself by refusing to leave the grounds without someone with you. I can't imagine what actually feeling restricted would mean by your definition.