The easiest goddamned thing in the world

I'm stuck in this sort of metaphorical space between wanting to be constantly moving, going, exploring, and getting irreversibly attached to places. Last week, for example, during my spring break, I repeatedly experienced feelings of anxiety when I thought about returning to school. So I made plans to come back this weekend. Then, as Friday approached, I became increasingly sad at the thought of missing two fun days with my friends. But now that I'm safe in my own home, facing the long trek up Pennsylvania Route 322, I feel rather an intense aversion to the idea.
I had some unhappy weeks in State College, so I started to make plans to leave for a semester, chasing my dream to live in another place for a while. London, in this case. But as my plans progress, I realize more and more that, while I am unbelievably excited to go, I'm also upset at the prospect of missing some irreplaceable college experiences during that semester. At the same time, I know that if I didn't go, I'd never forgive myself. All the while, I never really want to leave my parents' house.

I think it's safe to say that all this fretting is tied to my fear of change or, likelier still, my tendency to cling to my childhood. Somehow I worry that the more time spent away from home, the more grown-up I'll become. I realize, of course, that this is a logical fallacy; I can't slow time no matter where I am. That knowledge, though, doesn't really help me.

I guess this internal phenomenon is best described by one of my favorite John Green quotations, from his third novel, Paper Towns: "It is so hard to leave--until you leave. Then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world." I feel this every time I get into my car at the start of a long trip, namely one between here and State College. I don't want to do it. I never want to take the plunge into a decision that could change something or everything, even though, logically, I know it probably won't. But once I press that gas pedal, once I start moving, everything is fine. The more distance I put between myself and my past, the less I worry about what's coming.