Disclaimer: FOUR WORDS. IANTO WOULD BE ALIVE.
Mmkay. See. Totally don't own it. Nor do I make any money from it.
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Jack never understood Ianto and his diary. He had gleaned over it a couple times, and there were empty pages here and there, things lightly penciled in, others heavy in ink. It actually seemed very un-Ianto to him, but then he had run into some of the more fun pages(a few of which involved him), and his concerns were forgotten.
Ianto had his reasons though. He was meticulous in keeping up with his diary. If you would even call it that. It was more a place to keep track of the lies. Important facts he brought up to his fellow Torchwood members coded into daily recollections. The spare and penciled pages were like so to give him room to go back and adjust. He didn't want anything to become obvious. He would backdate information. He had mentioned that his father was a tailor then he had went back to weeks before in the diary and added in a note about how it brought up fond memories of his father when he went to get his suit tailored.
He would read through it every week, drilling the false facts into his mind. He even added in a few pages here and there about his times with Jack, pages that were steamy and detailed enough that he knew, if the man was to find it, it would capture Jack's interest enough so he wouldn't focus on the fact that practically everything they knew about Ianto was brought up in some way at some point in the diary. It was all done very diligently with the information placed so as to seem like it was just a diary, but you could never be too careful.
It didn't matter now though. Now he was gone. Now Jack poured over the dairy. Now Jack was left with a book of meaningless pages, and even less of an understanding of the other man.