I spent my entire holiday shift obsessively doom-scrolling my ex’s trashy new Tinder bio, furious that he erased two years of us in four days. And then? His little sister texts me that SHE made the stupid account with his gym pics because he’s spent two weeks sobbing on his bedroom floor. I’m torn between hysterical laughing and pure humiliation. What am I even supposed to do with this?!

First things first: step away from the phone, take a deep breath, and let yourself laugh out loud. What looked like the coldest, most callous flex in post-breakup history was actually just chaotic amateur sibling espionage. This is why you never judge someone’s healing process by their dating app status—half the time, flashy gym selfies and "just looking for good vibes" are a digital smoke screen masking a total emotional collapse. He didn't erase two years with you in a weekend. In fact, he’s apparently so wrecked that his family felt the need to stage an unauthorized PR campaign to save his morale. Your immediate move: do not confront him, and do not get dragged into his family's reality show. Send the sister a calm, boundary-setting reply: "Thanks for clarifying, but please keep me out of it—I'm moving on." Then clock out, put Tinder in the trash where it belongs, and remember: you don’t need to compete with a ghost, especially one running on his little sister's Wi-Fi.