I almost missed my flight home.

Last night I decided to give Roppongi Hills a miss because I had not packed. I ended up thinking of all the things I wanted to do but never had the time to- probably insignificant to most people but I felt like my Tokyo experience wasn't quite complete without them and I started freaking out.

The next thing I know I was sobbing in his arms, and he told me that he missed me already. It was all very bittersweet and unreal. He asked me to seriously consider extending my stay and I ended up crying myself to sleep, with my luggage still unpacked.

I woke up in the middle of the night with his arms wrapped around me and washed up before hastily throwing my things into my suitcase, but I'm pretty sure there are still random pieces of me left in his room.

We got up at half-past 6 this morning to catch the train to Nippori at 715 and he made sure I had my passport with me before we left the apartment.

He asked me again if I could just stay on, and we started thinking of the crazy ways I could miss my flight and apply to work more days in the Tokyo office.

"You know we could just take the train to the airport to have lunch and then go home..." he suggested, and I take out my booking confirmation to check the cost of a flight amendment. "You know I would do it... please don't make this harder for me than it already is..." and then I buried my face in his chest and started sobbing again.

But my bags were packed and we were almost at Narita, and it made more sense for me to get on the plane home.

At the check-in counter I realized that I didn't have my boarding pass with me because I had stupidly assumed I would get issued a new one at the airport and threw mine away in his room. It was a mixed moment of fear and joy realizing I might not get a new ticket reissued in time.

I went to the phone booth and dialed the Customer Support hotline for Malaysian Airlines, only to have my first call cut off when the credit ran out and have the second guy who spoke to me tell me very rudely that there was nothing they could do for me on the phone and to get it done at the counter.

So I ran to the counter and explained my story to the airport staff in English, and thankfully Peter was there to supplement in Japanese.

The guy told me that unfortunately it was Sunday which meant the ticketing office was close and there was nothing they could do for me, but I must have raised my voice a little because he straightened up and told me he would see what he could do for me. Some phone calls and hasty typing on the computer later, he told me he could replace my ticket but that it would cost me 10,000 yen.

I hesitated for a while, wondering if I should call in to my manager at work and explained that I was stranded in Tokyo and to ask if I could extend my work days there, but also realizing that staying longer in Tokyo would only make it even harder for me to leave.

In the end, my logic prevailed over my heart and I fished out my credit card for him to charge the administrative fee. Peter's face registered a frown.

"I was really looking forward to eating lunch with you..." he sighed. I looked at my watch and saw that it was past boarding time and my departure gate was at the other end of the airport and there was no way I could hang around any longer.

We walked to the depature gate, tears filling my eyes as I realized this was the worst possible way to bid farewell to him. I hugged him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and by the time I'm inside I'm crying like a baby.

And I continued crying all the way to my gate, trying to contain my sadness and still contemplating turning around and running back to him.

The flight home didn't feel quite as long, and it actually felt nice to be back.

I hate saying goodbye.