A sigh escaped from an exhausted stallion, resting on a maroon cushion that reflected the color of his unkempt yet straight mane, dancing in the calm breeze, much to his annoyance.
But he wasn't focused on his mane being neat or orderly, even to his careful and tidy ways. He was alone after all, so there was no need to worry about his image, besides, he had time to worry later, around strangers that could judge anyway they wished, or so he thought.
A bottle of wine and a glass made of crystal sat on a small cast iron table next to him. His electric emerald eyes ran over the bottle, enough wine for a gathering of friends, enough for a few friends to get rather tipsy, or enough for a couple to last a starry night, until the moon sets and sun rises. Perhaps.
And here he was, popping the cork off with a mental command, and suspended in an aura of green, it hovered in front of his nostrils for a brief moment, and he took in the scent of fermented grapes, a sweet smell rolling through him. He carefully guided the sweet smelling cork to the table, resting it upright next to the full bottle.
He wasn't going to drink the whole bottle, not like he's an alcoholic, rather his birthday now branded him eligible to drink without penalty. He just wanted the first bottle he had to be good enough to enjoy the view alone from his balcony outside his suite, a birthday he was going to celebrate all by himself.
He held the bottle in his grasp, tilting it until a red liquid cascaded out into the awaiting crystal glass, until the glass was maybe a fourth filled with sweet scented red wine.
He took the glass between his hooves, swishing the red liquid around before taking a careful sip. The warm, sweet wine ran down his throat, and he shivered in delight of quality wine. His delight was short lived as he again wasn't sharing a whole bottle of wine with anypony, like he should be.
His frown deepened, and he stared down to the snow kissed valley below, his eyes soaking up such a beautiful view, but a view he wasn't sharing with anypony.
He sat back and decided to tackle his feelings with thought, and reason. Why did he feel this way? he had to ask himself.
He snorted, it was a simple answer: he was alone on what should be a rather happy day for him, especially if his new age allowed him to explore the various alcoholic beverages without a consequence, other than maybe becoming hammered. Still, he knows his limits, and only has interest in wine anyways.
But the absence of good friends didn't bother him, he could visit friends anytime, even right now perhaps.
So what was bothering him to feel down in the blues? He stared out to the distant snow capped mountains in the distance, unsure what was upsetting him exactly.
He was in the middle of taking another sip when something interesting occurred: a couple flew by, two Pegasus, both in the middle of what appeared to be a sky dance, and they ever so elegantly flew around each other with such an awe inspiring beauty.
And as soon as they came, they flew out of sight, diving into the low clouds together. The sight moved him, and understood almost immediately what was making him feel in such a way.
It was the age old emotion of love.
He took another sip of wine, unsure how he was going to proceed with his pondering when he himself has never experienced love firsthoof.
Or has he? He has to ask himself: has he been in love? He lowered his head, already having an uncomfortable answer in mind.
He shook his head no; he had to be honest with himself, because lying to himself would just make him feel worse.
He sighed, feeling hopeless about the truth but he decided enough was enough; no, he hasn't been in love.
He has never fell sight upon a mare that stopped the sun and the moon, nor has he had any feelings toward a mare in general.
He choked on his wine, going into a coughing fit for a brief moment until it cleared. Well, he had to admit that some mares are devilishly attractive at a glance, but that is not love, being with some mare for their looks is just a untruthful relationship, that is if you do care for them and they to you then it might work, but if looks is the main reason, it just doesn't feel right.
He shook his head with a ridiculous grin on his face; he was getting off the topic, just jumping from one topic to another and letting his mind reason out each one.
He sighed and took another sip of wine, and again shivered in delight of the warm feeling coming from good wine.
Warm feeling. He placed a hoof over his heart, and felt a soft thump push against it. He didn't realize how warm he felt, especially around his heart.
He sat back and let the next question come to mind: What made him feel this way? He grunted, he already knew the answer: his heart.
A heart is more than just a vital organ that pumped blood to every inch of his body, there was more to it than that. He thought of a drawing of any heart, it was rather hideous looking, enough for some foreign cultures to use the stomach as a better representation of love for its more appealing look. But a stomach isn't for love, it is for eating, and he guessed some ponies use food as love, but that's not the point.
When he thought of a drawing of a heart representing love looks like two tears together as one. Some could say it's the tears of two lover's, but he himself couldn't assume the real reason. Maybe the reason is quite simple, the heart is to make one feel love, by making it soar, when it sinks, and when it melts.
A heart can be warm.
A heart can be cold.
A heart judges a ponies ability to love. And he asked himself: What was his heart like?
He smiled.
He wasn't too much of a humble pony, but he remembered somewhere, somepony said he had a big heart.
A big heart. He grunted. What does that mean?
He grinned, he had to assume it meant something good. He didn't know for sure.
But he had a feeling had a good motive to love, let it be friends, family, or a special somepony.
He sighed; Could he really love somepony else? Could it ever happen? He shook his head.
He didn't know, but he had to take the fact that there was, somehow someway a mare for him to feel for, to live for.
The ridiculous grin came to his face again. He couldn't just hope could he? He has for five years at the best. But he has hope, that he'll find that somepony.
He shook his head, it seems so far-fetched, but that's what he believes, maybe some others feel the same way? He couldn't be for sure, being so self conscience of himself he was afraid of what others thought of him.
He shook his head, no, he couldn't let that set him back. He has a right to think what he wants. Right?
He found himself suddenly angry about something. His eyebrows scrunched up low above his eyes.
He sighed, relaxing himself after getting so upset about something.
This was now, and only time could tell when he could no longer be alone.
He would have to just keep hoping the time would come now than then. He sighed and took his final sip of wine.
He stood up and placed the cork snug in the bottle and he finished his dinner alone.
