crown of golden leaves

Sentimental: resulting from feelings or emotions rather than reason or thought; appealing to the emotions in an excessive way; having or expressing strong feelings of love, sadness, etc., in a way that may seem foolish or excessive.

I always thought of myself as a logical person, analytical, wise. "Don't play hooky from school with the boy you have a crush on because the trajectory of that path really isn't promising." "Don't go to where there's excess, where one needs alcohol and illicit substances either to drown their feelings or the courage to really express them." "Don't allow your imagination (your naivety, your good nature, your desires) to deceive you into missing the reality in front of you." Being intellectual provided me distance from emotions and feelings. Life taught me to look for truth and to value it more than any lie; ultimately a painful accurate perception is better than a "happy" deluded one. In other words, I always thought I lived a life not ruled by sentiment.

She will, she won't. She does, she don't. It doesn't matter; your happiness is not up to me. I accept that now. Our paths no longer intersect though they sometimes run near; on the line of time we were parallel but for the briefest of moments. I wish it had lasted longer than it did, I wish it had been more than the much it was for me. It's not greed, when you find a good thing, wanting more is to be expected.

In my reading for school there was a section in the text regarding family influences on child development. It touched on sibling relationships, youngest-middle-older children, and only children. What it said about only children made a lot of sense to me and one thing stood out in particular, "Only children...often enjoy a rich fantasy life as a result of isolation." I identify with that. I think I can be so analytical because I'm also so imaginative.

The things that pop into my head are so random but so detailed, they almost seem more real than real to me.

The light of Autumn is different than the light of Spring and Summer. It rains a symphony of color as light hits the leaves cascading softly upon the earth. Harvest dots the landscape and so the mentality of all who dwell here in our corner of the Midwest. We take stock of gains and losses as we prepare for the long winter. I am struck by the beauty of Fall, it won't go unnoticed. Geese form their V of timely depart. The earth rewards the farmers its bounty. The scent of burning leaves and bonfires marks the air, apple cider and pumpkin pie linger nostalgically on the tongue, layers of sweaters and scarves defend against the ever increasing chill. It is here, I live. Here where I adorn your head (short hair or long as if it mattered to me) with a crown of golden leaves. You that are the most alive and lasting of all things to me, such a contrast to the end Autumn brings. On a worn quilt under the shelter of a great tree, beams of sunlight illuminating every leaf, finally peace comes to these bodies in need of rest...

These are just thoughts, mere pondering, images existing only in the mind, no great effort on my part to conjure them but if they show anything its an extremely sentimental heart.

The definition says to be sentimental can mean having strong feelings of love that may seem foolish. It's the word seem that throws me. Are these feelings of love foolish or not? My analytical mind wants a final answer but my imaginative mind could care less.