Your job, as the author, is to feed the fire, not worry it to ashes. You let a fire blaze on its own, after it has enough oxygen, kindling, dry wood. If you keep poking it every few seconds, the blaze will probably die out. Publishers, agents, editors--and readers!--look for stories that stand alone, fiery and bright, burning without any interpretation from the author. And it's not easy to keep a fire burning. Keep your passion for your story alive but take out your desire for interpretation.
The trashcan smelled really bad, like a million rotted apples.
Jason's hands shook and fear raced his throat. He felt scared.
I longed to be outside, smell the trees and feel the spring air. Nature always gave me strength. I loved the great outdoors.
Can you pick out the places where the author is standing too close to the fire, talking to the reader instead of just letting the reader enjoy the story that's being woven?
Here are how these sentences could look, without the overwriting:
The trashcan smelled like a million rotted apples. (We know rotted apples smell bad--why interpret?)
Jason's hands shook and fear raced his throat. (These are already signs of being scared--why add it?)