Diss Track Summer

Just when I think I’m done with this man…

And to be clear — I am done. Romantically, emotionally, energetically. The thought of him makes my skin crawl.

When I wrote Traitor / True Story / Eternal Sunshine Pts. 1 & 2, that was supposed to be it. That was my closure. The truth was out there, and I was done.

Florida Man is blocked on everything. The only way he has access to me now is through Bumble and the fake profiles he keeps creating to keep tabs. He “liked” me again — which led to my last post, Now That She’s Gone / There You Go — because I just knew the whole situation with C had finally blown up in his face. I already told him: you can’t come back around here.

But now? According to an anonymous source, he’s back on his cyberstalking nonsense. Apparently, he’s sending people my writing — my stories about him — with “edits” for what he claims are “inaccurate” statements.

This person found the behavior so disturbing she felt the need to warn me.

Alexa, play Euphoria by Kendrick Lamar…

“I can double down on that line, but spare you this time. That’s random acts of kindness. Know you a master manipulator and habitual liar too. But don’t tell no lie about me and I won’t tell truths about you…”

It’s funny how things come to you.

Remember when he messaged me, claiming I “blew up” our non-existent relationship over a “hypothetical situation”? According to him, I overreacted because C didn’t move in right away.

Well, a little birdy told me… she did move in.

And just like I suspected, that was his “in” — his plan to make a move on her. And just like she did in the past, C rejected him. She only moved in as a means to an end. He was a stepping stone. A pit stop. Temporary.

And when she rejected him (again), Florida Man did what he always does — went looking for another “placeholder.” Someone to dust off the shelf when the object of his obsession turns him down. That’s when the little birdy realized she was now just the latest placeholder. She pulled back. And during that time, he admitted to her that he was in love with C.

So… what exactly did I lie about?

More tea. More shade.

After the birdy flew the coop for a bit, Florida Man reached out to her again. Why? Because C brought another man home. To his house.

Now, if she was just a “roommate” or “friend,” that shouldn’t have bothered him, right?

Well — it did.

He was so bothered, in fact, that he asked her to leave. And she did. Within a week, she had moved out and in with the very guy she brought over.

Poetic.

Later, the little birdy told me that after he confessed to liking me on Bumble, she asked him: What was the end game?

His answer? “I doubt she’ll like me back.”

(Spoiler: I swiped left with Olympic precision.)

But when she pressed further — what if she did swipe right? — he said he “just wanted to talk.”

She found that strange, considering he always claimed I was the one chasing him. That I was “more into him” than he was into me. But she finally put two and two together:

If I’m the “obsessed” one, why is he the one cyberstalking me, reading everything I write, and passing it around with notes in the margins like this is high school?

Shoutout to her for seeing through the smoke.

He even told her I broke his heart.

How can I break something I never had?

Here’s the truth: It’s never been about love. It’s about control. That’s what this has always been. How dare I move on? How dare I live, laugh, and glow without him?

He can keep feeding his friends whatever lies he wants. I don’t care anymore. I was right about his intentions with C. I know it. He knows it. And deep down, they know it too.

Oh, and while we’re talking about lies — he should probably remove “Christian” from his Bumble profile. I’ve never seen this man pray, much less say grace over a damn meal.

Nothing about him is real.

Alexa, play Not Like Us by Kendrick Lamar…

“And the truth of the matter, it was God’s plan to show y’all the liar. Mm. mm-mm…”

“He a fan, he a fan…”

Final Note: I didn’t ask for this. I’ve said my piece. I’ve written the truth. He just keeps popping back up like a virus that won’t go away. So if you’re reading this, Florida Man — please know: you lost me a long time ago. You don’t get to circle back when your fantasy crashes and burns.

And I sure as hell won’t be your backup plan.