I've lived in this house all my life. Except for a few days at a time when I go on vacation, I don't know what it's like to prepare my own meals, sort through my laundry, do the maintenance work, etc for extended periods of time. When my siblings were in their twenties, they all experienced moving out of this house: whether for school or just the need to practice independence. Little by little, each of those siblings have somehow found their way back. Having seen my siblings go through the moving out-moving back in experience, I don't feel the need to do so.
This house keeps me grounded. It's where I get to hear my dad mock me if I arrive home too late (Ang aga mo naman umuwi) or if I stay at home the whole day (Ano, wala kang lakad?). It's where a home-cooked meal is waiting for me after a long day in school or play. It's where I get to share snippets of pop culture, basketball, tech stuff, movies and the other nuances of daily life with my brothers.
This is comfort. This is home.
Edit: and all those reasons are exactly why I go crazy staying at home.