A love affair in a book about state torture of the individual? A romantic interlude in a society full of spies? No, in a dystopian novel, where the author only works in opposites, there is no love. There's not time for it, no need for it, and, artistically, no objective correlative for it. There's only Winston and his bleeding ulcer and Room 101 and rats. The only thing that comes close to love are memories that don't last.
Orwell's thesis of 1984 focuses on the individual being crushed by the state. Winston becomes an unperson. One has no time for a love affair in this wholly painful novel. To have one would be to subvert its themes. It would be a sell-out, a convenient emotional appeal to appeal to a kind of audience that wants romance for the sake of romance.
Even though Julia gives him a chance at love, Winston rejects her. He chooses to love O'Brien and individual rebellion and thoughtcrime over her and marriage and hapinness, however brief. In O'Brien's flat, Winston chooses pain over love.