the value of boredom

I'm so dead inside
looking back at long lost memories
wondering how I strayed so far
from days that were meaningful

Though history reminds me
that not everything
we lived through
meant something

I deleted 99% of his messages
because there's only so much
sarcastic small talk
I care to hold on to
and I don't get the flutter
of warm fuzzy nostalgia
when reading him back

And it's strange
that we messaged so often
when he meant so little to me

Deleting all his old messages
is about as exhausting
as our our conversations used to be
and my only reasoning
for tolerating the inane meaningless
dribble he slipped into my DMs
on a regular basis
is that I must have been
mindnumbingly bored

A younger version of myself
bounces around my head
and tells me I'm horrible
for having these thoughts

The me I am today
tells her to shut up
because I am the definition of human
and I do sensless things
without needing to have a reason why

Though to be honest
boredom is often a good enough reason
to endure lackluster conversations
because if I was able to connect
I would have sort out
a better word partner

And the silver lining is that now
with hindsight at my fingertips
I can write a boring poem
about boring people
being bored