One time this happened...

Sometimes conversations start over shared awkward silences – my date, Emma, and I stared blankly at the dimly lit indie cafe until she spoke up. As is the case whenever she accidentally used my full name, Jamie, instead of the shortened Jam, a flutter in my chest occurred: it was an involuntary sign. "Jam, want to walk?" Emma asked, gesturing towards the foggy evening outside and our abandoned outdoor table seating. In the few seconds that passed before responding – 'no' and 'yes' jostled in my head simultaneously – I thought about why our dinner had devolved into a list of our past shared awkwardness.