Usually, she believes that she no longer loves him. When she feels Aang's arms close around her body and hold her tight, she feels content, happy, and satisfied. When she walks through her home of ice, stops to chat with fellow villagers, and helps deliver her tribes-member's children, she smiles, and cannot imagine living anywhere else.
And yet, sometimes, she can't help but to remember and long for him. On those rare occasions that the sun comes out and caresses her skin, she remembers his long, warm fingertips dancing their way across her body, remembers the look of devotion in those molten gold eyes of his whenever he glanced her way. When she stares too long at the crackling fire, she remembers how his lean muscles had moved as he had bent his element to his will.
She has nearly convinced herself that she is over him, that her love for him has died away. But times like those, times when the memories are so vivid that she can taste him, recall the feeling of his hands moving through her hair, feel the texture of his skin beneath her fingertips… She realizes that no matter how content she is, no matter how happy she may be, no matter how much she may try to convince herself otherwise, her love for him will never cease to be.