Though far from the mind, love is never forgotten. It's twisted, manipulated, disfigured, and broken down, usually to it's baser ingredients: lust, infatuation, obsession, admiration, fixation, and dependency.
It's up to the heart to try to morph love into something we recognize beyond the dysfunction and destruction we normally see, but it takes two or more to perfect the imperfections. One alone cannot simply fix what's been broken by multiple others. Other's hands are required to be cut, splintered, and sliced in the painful process, otherwise the effort of one alone is pointless.
If alone, it's the heart's job to figure out what is wrong with their love and what can be done to fix it, that way they can fix what little they can alone without hurting oneself too much. Eventually someone will come along to fix what's been broken, but waiting to be fixed is just as useless as trying to fix what keeps being broken.
Having help, but remaining alone, can fix love, but that process can be messy, painful, and sometimes make love better and worse.
If you feel broken, fix your love. If you feel whole, then enjoy your love. If you think you know love, you don't. The mind is cut off from the heart and will fight tooth and nail to prove it knows what love is, all the while perverting the idea.
You feel love. You are love. You are its baser ingredients.