When I first saw the trailer for Drew Barrymore’s upcoming film Going the Distance, I have to admit, I cried (only a little. And then promptly blushed with embarrassment). Yes, the trailer for a rom-com brought me to tears. Was I losing my mind?

Not exactly. As I’ve already told you, I spent two weeks in London this month. But that wasn’t just a random vacation. I was in London visiting my boyfriend of over two years.

We met in London. I spent a semester there in college, but before I headed over, a family friend promised to put me in touch with someone who lived there. That someone turned out to be Stuart.

We’ve since admitted that we were somewhat reluctant to meet up at the time – we each had no idea what the other was like, and no matter what, I didn’t want to be a bother. We agreed to meet up; he wisely came armed with friends. We hit it off and had our first date a few weeks later.

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I’ll spare you all the details, but our first date was like something out of a movie. We met up in Southwark, a quaint, cobblestoned area on the South Bank of the Thames. We explored the Tate Modern, had dinner near Green Park, then walked past Buckingham Palace and down to Westminster Bridge. We lost track of time as we wandered through the city and talked. I went home that night knowing that I would see Stuart again.

We scheduled dates around my many weekend trips and spent more and more time together. We had less than four months together before I returned to New York to finish school.

When I told my friends and family about Stuart, their reactions were mixed. I had friends who listened patiently to my stories and said he sounded wonderful and they were glad I was happy. Other friends were not so encouraging – they worried I would get hurt and wondered why two twenty-somethings would throw ourselves into a relationship that would leave us effectively single for much of our lives. But there were a few people who said “go for it.” And so we did.