Help me go home

I love my home. I love my family. I love my grandpa's hands and the gentleness of his laughter, calmness like that of a mountain storm.

It's been five years since the last time I was back in Peru, where I am from, and my every cell misses it. I dream of it. Night after night. Haunted by it. My mother sitting in the kitchen asking me when I'll visit next, my dad telling me he doesn't remember his grandkid's smile anymore, the cab driver in my neighbourhood upcharging me, and the juice lady from the market recriminating my absence. I wake up no longer knowing what city I'm in, soul half gone.

It doesn't escape me that all I have and where I am is due to luck and coincidence. Roof over my head, food on my plate, a kiss on my child's forehead every night. More than many. And yet, I crave nothing but to see the place I was born in again.

If you know me, you'll know for the last five years, every penny I've made has gone towards visa applications, London rent and the night thieves (the tfl). There's no reality I can imagine where I can make enough money to go visit on my own, I need help. So much help.

The money asked in this gofundme is to cover air travel for me and my family, gofundme fees and unpaid time off from work, one present for my mother, and a million kisses for my grandpa.

Please.