'If you really love something let it go - if it comes back to you it is yours - if it doesn't - it never was.'

I did that and 'it' kept coming back, over and over again, for over twenty years, but in between 'it' was pretending to be devoted to a succession of others. I knew about them (and was very unhappy). They didn't know about me (and as far as I know they were happy while it lasted).

I have a choice of total unhappiness, or unhappiness a lot of the time but with happier interludes.

Is the thing I love mine? I don't think so, but it still keeps coming back.