Actually, it's not the worst, but it's bruised me enough that I still have bitter memories. First semester of college (several years ago), I met a guy at a dumb social event, where I had gone with a group. This story has a lot of details, but I'll try to streamline, as people will probably be bored enough. Point is, not long after he met me, his girlfriend ended up dumping him. That night, I found him looking like a lost puppy. He confided in me, which led to a deep conversation and dinner with his group of friends. Seeing how he was hurting made me want to make him feel better so, through a series of events, I ended up becoming his rebound/shoulder to cry on for about 3 months.
Unless he was totally screwing with me, there was some kind of spark; we cuddled in front of people, spent time alone in my room (lying in my bed once or twice), etc. At one point, he even comforted me when I broke down crying. A decent amount of people in our mutual group knew that something was up. Then he asked me to hang out over winter break. Made him a Christmas gift because I'm a derpy nerd, which he seemed happy to get. All was well, and he (literally) came knocking on my door when classes started again, which people were used to. And then...he dropped off the radar, Even my roommate worked up the gumption to ask if something had happened. I had a sinking feeling that yes, it had, and that I knew what it was, but I was too much of a coward to confront him. Part of me held out hope, while the other part knew that I also wasn't going to force myself on someone who didn't want me. He ended up going after a cool punk-ish girl who lived a couple doors down from me, without ever having the guts to tell me that he didn't have feelings after all. Seeing them everywhere was so awkward. Finally one of his friends cracked and told me they were official. I think he pitied me, and it was really embarrassing to feel like others thought of me that way. I actively avoided the dorm for the rest of my time there. This might sound stupid to some people, but I have never had guys begging after me; the only person who's ever approached me was a friend who wanted it to be more, and that didn't ended well. So I was naive. Although my behavior was natural based on my previous experiences, and I do wish I was a bit less clingy/awkward in certain respects. Bottom line: I'm not writing this to throw a tantrum. I don't regret anything from the experience—except how he chose to end it. I'm sure he knew that I didn't think all that highly of myself, and it wouldn't have hurt to be nicer. It wasn't a much better feeling when he stumbled, drunk, into my room almost a year later during a casual gathering. Made some comments that hinted at regret, but a sober anything would have made me feel less like dirt.