Life choices

The weekend has been eventful. Hah, I don't think eventful is really the word. Fucking dreadful might be a better description, but even that doesn't do it justice.
It started well. Friday night and saturday day were wonderful. Pete's mum was away so I went to stay with him, we just chilled, but spending some quality time with him was fantastic, we were able to be together without having to worry about going home, or anyone else. I can honestly say it was the happiest I've been for a while, I mean camping was good, but there is a certain amount of stress involved with being on holiday, even if you don't really notice it at the time.
Anyway, it was Tim's birthday on saturday, Tim is a mate of Pete's who I used to go to college with, he's a nice lad.
We met up with Tim and some of Pete's mates in the pub to watch the football, then hung about for a bit til we went over to liverpool to go to some bars. Neither of us had a lot of money and I had to work, so we said we wouldn't stay out too late.
I don't know what was wrong with me last night. When we got over to Liverpool, I was edgy and tense all night. In the first bar we went in there was a girl who was just taking the piss out of me because I had my big bag with me with my stuff that I'd taken to pete's. She was asking for a smack, and I really felt like doing it. We left before I did tho, but in the next bar we went to there was a guy that was dancing and kept bumping into me. I'm only little, I like to have space around me. I punched him in the ribs and Pete dragged me awayand got between me and the guy. After I'd hit the guy I was ashamed, ok I didn't hit him hard cos I'm a pathetic weakling, but thats just not me, usually I just let people walk on me, and mutter at them under my breath, I don't hit people, I'm not violent. I hadn't been drinking at all, I just don't know what got into me. We left soon after, and walked through liverpool trying to find a taxi. We couldn't find one, and I was getting really pissed off. I 'm sad to say Pete bore the brunt of it. The taxi rank had a queue a mile long, and I just flew off the handle at him. Added to the dreadful mood I'd been in all night, this didn't help matters, and I'm sorry to say I just walked away, muttering about getting the tunnel bus and acting like a completely selfish, nasty bitch.
If it had been me in Pete's position I'd have left me to go get the tunnel bus and made my own way home, which just shows what a complete bitch I really am. Pete followed me to the bus station, got on the bus behind me, and even when I wouldn't speak to him when we got to birkenhead, he stayed with me until we got to the taxi rank. He said he wasn't going to leave me on my own in Birkenhead with all the scallies around. Even then I wasn't grateful to him, all I could think in my head was that I didn't need him, that before I'd met him I had been coming home on my own from liverpool for ages. At the taxi rank they only had 3 taxi's on, which meant the wait was ages. Pete said he was going to walk home and I let him go without saying a word to him, then waited until nearly three for my taxi to turn up.
Pete isn't speaking to me. I can't blame him, I wouldn't be speaking to me either. I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to see me ever again. I've texted him to say sorry, and phoned him four times. He doesn't want to speak to me at the moment and he's going to Ireland tomorrow with his brother and cousin. I can't help feeling that I've blown it for good this time. I feel dead and empty. He's the only really good thing I have got in my life, and I seem determined to make him hate me.
On top of that I seem to have caught a stomach bug too. Work was hell what with lack of sleep, worrying and being sick, but I didn't have the energy to go home. I feel a bit better now bug wise, but the mental stress and self loathing continues.