There is little I could write that would do justice to the memory of a friend and activist who spent his life pushing how we understand gender, sexuality, HIV, sex, friendship, race, words, movement-building and, well, hugs. W. Brandon Lacy Campos gave great hugs, the kind that would last for days. The kind you can’t imagine never having again.

It’s sad, weird, uncomfortable and just-not-right, to have to write the obituary of a friend that passed too soon. Thirty-five is too young to leave us, it’s when you are just starting and it’s when you start to realize how much more life you have to live. It’s how old I’ll be next year.

But I’m writing about Brandon, despite my ...