In my last post, we looked at the heavy silence that settles into a marriage; the kind where you feel like a “function” rather than a person. We identified the signs of disconnection.
But once you name the distance, how do you actually close it?
The answer is counterintuitive. It isn’t found in a “marriage summit” or a five-year plan. It’s found in the “unnecessary.”
The Chemistry of “Nothing”
Think back to the very beginning.
The chemistry was spontaneous. It was fueled by long nights on the phone, endless text threads, and playful innuendos.
You weren’t talking about property taxes or school runs. You were sharing poems, having “meaningless” role-plays, and laughing like babies over inside jokes that no one else would understand.
In those moments, your brain was flooded with connection hormones. You weren’t being “productive,” but you were being present.
Then, you moved in together. You got married. You started a life. And slowly, the things that built your connection were replaced by the things that sustain your household.
The Success Trap
Have you ever wondered why highly successful people who are giants of industries often struggle to keep a marriage intact?
I’ve thought about this a lot.
I can’t imagine a billionaire setting up an organisation that helps millions of people, yet they find it impossible to agree with the one person they see every day.
The crux of the matter is this: Success requires high goals, efficiency, and logic. But intimacy requires the exact opposite.
If you treat your marriage like a project to be managed, you will eventually manage the love right out of it. To keep the love hormones intact, you almost have to be “stupid” enough to prioritise the pointless over the practical.
My Story: From Poems to Projects
I’ve been married since 2016.
Before we said “I do,” I remember being on chat with my wife all day. We were sharing poems. We were doing those silly role-plays that meant absolutely nothing to the world but meant everything to us.
We looked forward to those moments because they were our escape. But as the years passed, I began to change.
I started replacing the poems with projects I was building. I replaced the laughter with discussions about the house and the kids’ never-ending needs.
I thought I was being a “good husband” by being a good provider and a good manager.
What I didn’t realise was that I was becoming a great business partner, but a distant lover.
The Return to Basics
I had to learn to go back to the basics. I had to intentionally bring back the “pointless” talk.
I started sharing the random thoughts again. The silly observations. The “useless” stories. And I started seeing results immediately. The atmosphere in my home shifted. The tension broke.
I’ll be honest, I can no longer write beautiful poems like I used to. My brain is a bit more tired now, and my life is a lot busier.
But I’ve learned that a “clunky” joke or a five-minute chat about nothing is worth more than a perfectly managed household.
Why the “Pointless” Matters
Problem-solving is about fixing something. Pointless talk is about enjoying someone.
When you only talk about problems, your spouse becomes a task to be completed. When you talk about nothing, your spouse remains a person to be known.
Intimacy, by definition, is being known without being “used.” When you talk about the mortgage, you are using your spouse for their brain and their contribution.
When you talk about the random shape of a cloud or a song from 1998, you are simply being with them. That is why pointless talk sustains intimacy, and it is the only type of communication that exists for no other reason than the two of you.
If you want to feel connected again, stop trying to be so efficient. Stop trying to “optimise” your evening. Be “useless” together for a while. Share a story that doesn’t have a point. Ask a question that doesn’t have an answer.
Intimacy isn’t built in the big decisions. It’s built in the “wasted” time.
Go back to the basics. Your heart will thank you for it.
The “Co-Pilot” Trap
The reason many of us resist “pointless talk” is that we’ve become excellent co-pilots.
In a co-pilot relationship, you are focused on the flight path. You are checking the fuel, looking at the weather, and making sure the landing gear is ready. It is safe. It is necessary.
But you never actually look at the person sitting in the seat next to you. You only look at the dashboard.
When you refuse to have pointless conversations, you are telling your spouse, “I only have space for you if you are helping me fly this plane.”
But intimacy is what happens when you let the plane fly itself for a moment, turn your head, and remember why you wanted this person on the journey in the first place.
Sometimes, you have to be willing to be “unproductive” to be connected.
Practising the Art of the “Unnecessary”
If you’ve been in “management mode” for years, jumping back into pointless talk feels awkward. It feels like a waste of time. Your brain will scream at you to talk about the mortgage or the kids’ schedule instead.
Resist that urge. Start small with the “unnecessary”:
- Share a “Micro-Thought”: Tell them about a song you heard that reminded you of high school. It doesn’t solve a problem, but it opens a door.
- The “No-Agenda” 10 Minutes: Try to spend ten minutes a day talking where the words “need,” “must,” or “should” are banned.
- Revisit the Nonsense: If you used to have role-plays or shared poems (like I did in 2016), bring back a piece of that history. Even if it’s just a reference to an old inside joke.
These aren’t just chats; they are deposits into an emotional bank account.
When the “big” problems eventually arrive, you can bet they will, you’ll have a balance of affection to draw from.
Without the pointless talk, your account is at zero, and every problem feels like a bankruptcy.
The Highest Return on Investment
We live in a world that worships ROI (Return on Investment). We want to know that our time is being used wisely.
In business, pointless talk is a waste. In marriage, it is the highest form of investment because it secures the foundation upon which everything else is built.
You can build a billion-dollar empire and still be emotionally bankrupt if you can’t laugh about nothing with the person in your living room.
You don’t need to be a poet. You don’t need to have “meaningful” breakthroughs every night. You just need to be willing to waste a little time with the person you love.
Intimacy isn’t built in the big decisions but in the “wasted” time.
Dear, go back to the basics. Your heart and your marriage will thank you for it.


