Classicly

She looked at him, and his face was red with embarrassment. He avoided her eyes, and he was his former self, at least for a moment. The self she wanted to touch and hold onto in the face of a swirling, mysterious, and frightening world: except, more than anything else, she could not afford to touch him, and every day he was growing more and more away from her until one day he would be gone altogether, and she would not want to touch him any longer. It was infinitely sad to sit helplessly by while that happened.