When I met my current boyfriend, I mentioned my name three times to him. I wanted to be sure he heard it. When we started dating, anytime he called me by name, I would say, “Awwwn, that’s so sweet.”

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He was lost. He didn’t understand why. He would say, “Oh, stop that. What’s sweet about a name?” I often answered, “I like the way you call my name. It’s different. No one says it better.”

He said I was exaggerating, and that was partially true. What I haven’t told him is this…

I dated my ex-boyfriend for nine months, three weeks, and six days. He didn’t know my name—not my first name, my middle name, or my surname. He called me Keys. In the beginning, he said I held the keys to his heart. I told him, “Then I’m the Key Holder.”

He called me Key Holder until the Holder was dropped, and I became Keys. He saved my name the same way on his phone: “Keys.”

That guy is the worst cheat I’ve ever dated. He dated anything, including a woman he claimed was his aunt. The woman was over fifty. Later, it turned out he was dating her. Finally, I saw my name on his phone, and it was no longer Keys but Key Mechanic.

I screamed, “Is that my name now?”

He tried changing it back to Keys, and I said, “No, write my own name. My original name.” He asked, “Which one?” I said, “Any of them.” He stood there, trying to remember, but he couldn’t figure it out. I bought the phone he was using for him on his birthday, but the phone didn’t have my name.

Herrh, I was hurt. The heartbreak was different. So when I met this one, I ensured he got my name right. I ensured he mentioned it right, and because of him, I know how my name sounds on the lips of the man who loves. He doesn’t know this story. If I tell him, he’ll start calling me Keys. He likes teasing like that.

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I know this one is heading in the right direction. Everything shows. But even if it doesn’t, I would be happy that he knew my name and that he mentioned it right—and lovely.

—Brenda

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