Is it ok if I miss you?

Slide out of bed like a sun soaked snake. Peel open sleep dewed eyes to see the mocking clock flash "5 til you're late". Quickly sifting through the minutes that have begun to pile up in heaps at anxious feet, the cerebral slate is wiped clean. Fifth year college mind gets engulfed with thoughts of refridgerator internals. In lieu of seeking out apple juice, the grammar book lies abandoned on the table, made bastard by a vaccant stomach. Climbing into the car parked inconveniently on the hill, bags and books of all sorts fall weighted into the seat. No need to shut the door as the incline decides to slam it shut on the exposed knee. Heated murmers soothe frustrations. Flying down asphalt that churns the mind with thoughts of you. Knowing it shouldn't but caring not, spin mind. Spin with thoughts of shoulds, should nots, and but what if I do's. Turning the corner to reach structure, distant brown eyes lock with those of a homeless man. Look back in the mirror and feel gulty driving by him and his matted grey beard. Tell a story dear sir. Snap back to reality and continue the drive. Is it ok if I still miss you?