It Wasn't a Bad Script. It Just Wasn't Ours.

I don’t yell.
Not really.

When I’m angry, I go courtroom.
I build the case. I gather the facts. I follow the timeline.
I lay it out like an episode of Law & Order ... closing arguments, dramatic pauses, the works.

And in one relationship ... the one that still echoes in my ribs ... I did exactly that.

This person did something that really upset me. Crossed a line. And instead of lashing out, I composed myself like I was about to deliver a monologue to a jury that didn’t exist.

I thought, “This is it. This is the turning point in the movie. This is where they’ll stop, realize, nod through their tears, and say ‘You’re right. I didn’t see it before. I see it now.’”

But they didn’t.

They didn’t even hear the same script.

While I laid out my step-by-step logic, they were jumping through emotional wormholes ... bringing up things from months ago, years ago, some from universes I wasn’t even aware of.
I was in Act 3.
They were still editing Act 1.

And that’s when it hit me:
We weren’t on the same page.
We weren’t even in the same genre.

All that control I thought I had ... in my voice, my logic, my restraint ... it turned into helpless rage.
Not because I wasn’t “winning” the argument.
But because I realized… we weren’t going to find each other here.

And then came the chorus of voices from the outside.
The ones that said, “Well, she’s a woman.”
Or “That’s her culture.”
Or “You know how those people are.”

And I felt the heat crawl up my neck.

Because that’s when it stopped being about us… and turned into a statistic. A stereotype. A meme of doomed dynamics.

And that made me hate them even more in that moment.
Not because of what they said.
But because suddenly, I didn’t know how to defend them ... or myself ... anymore.

It wasn’t a movie scene.
It was a breakdown in translation.
Not between languages, but between intentions.

And here’s what no one tells you about those “scripted” moments:

When they don’t land, they don’t just fall flat.
They leave a crater.
Because you brought your whole self into that line. That moment.
And all you got back… was silence, deflection, or worse ... a different scene entirely.

So no, it wasn’t a bad script.
It just wasn’t our story anymore.
And maybe it never was.

And thats the part that cuts deep, and daym... it hurts.

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About the Author
Mish’al Samman is a writer, performer, and lifelong fanboy who began his career covering comics, film, and fandom culture for Fanboy Planet in the early 2000s. With a voice rooted in sincerity, humor, and cultural observation, his work blends personal storytelling with pop-culture insight. Whether he’s reflecting on the soul of Star Wars or exploring identity through genre, Mish’al brings a grounded, human perspective to every galaxy he writes about.