A/N - Sorry for the delay (I know I say that every time), I'm quite pleased with this chapter (for once lol) and thank you so much for all your lovely reviews. They really keep this story coming. I don't own Torchwood.

Enjoy!

It seemed as if time had speeded up around Jack. He was reliving every moment of several weeks, crammed into several hours, yet he was nearing the end. With only a few entries left in the diary, the end must be approaching. But the story kept on coming.

Jack considered himself to be blind, ignorant and stupid. He had fucked up big time. The only person to blame was himself and he hated every minute of existence, existence that was deemed to go on forever.

So much of the future, but Jack was here, reliving the past.

26th January

What an eventful day. It was one of those days that brought both sadness and joy.

We were having our usual evening email chat, it was like we were making real progress, chatting and gossiping again like real friends. But then, as usual, the conversation turned to that subject.

First, Ianto kept telling me about how had given up on himself! How? I tried my very, very best to try and project reason into his head, make him see that he is loved and he is worth so much and that life offers everything to live for. But he wouldn't accept it. That was the sadness – so what was the joy?

I have more hope! The most important thing a person can have, without it you are lost.

Ianto said that that what he wanted was me! I was so happy, I had more hope. I think he even tried to ask me out once more, but was too scared to. He got as far as 'Do you think that maybe…' before he finished with a 'never mind'. He kept asking me that night if I had guessed what he was going to say, and if I thought it was a good idea.

I don't want to be selfish, I just want what is best for Ianto and though I know I keep saying it, it's true. Before I make any big decisions like this, I would need to talk to him. Seriously, face to face. But he doesn't want that – I can understand how it would be hard but nothing in life comes easy, I would need to satisfy myself that it was what he wanted and I wouldn't be making situations worse.

We'll see how it goes.

Happy times, well as happy as they were going to get under the circumstances.

Why did this twisted story keep getting worse? When Jack had written this part of his diary, so long ago, he had pondered over psychology a lot. Who was to know what another person was thinking? All Jack could do was study his own mind and hope others were the same.

He had turned to writing down his thoughts, ideas, revelations and feelings. Jack found that expressing himself through the power of the written word helped calm him when he was angry, comfort him when he cried and console him when he felt like living no more.

He had started to write poems, expressing emotion and exploring the mind. There was only ever one that he had written into his diary, filling its own page, the rest lay in a tattered note pad, falling to pieces because of how many times it had been opened.

Jack felt as if he had written the poem for many reasons though none of them seemed clear.

Does no one understand?

Does anyone see things
the way I do?
The goodness in everyone
belief in yourself.
Layout of one mind
set against another.
Does no one understand?

Does anyone see the world
the way I do?
The blindness, the cold
sending prejudice my way.
I've tried to communicate
my soul to the outside.
Does no one understand?

Does anyone see reason
the way I do?
Logic reigning tall and proud
all set out in a beautiful pattern
the road straight to happiness
yet the pattern is broken, unfollowed
Does no one understand?

Does anyone see justice
the way I do?
Unhappiness across the globe
that could be fixed if kindness ruled.
I need people to know what I feel
my mind cannot be unique
Does no one understand?

Does anyone see speech
the way I do?
Obsess over every word
find meaning, and again
all that noise in side my head
analysing the smallest detail.
Does no one understand?

Does anyone see feeling
the way I do?
All the Love, Anger and Sorrow.
What makes us human: opposites hand in hand
Hope is most important,
Without it we are lost.
Does no one understand?

Soon after the poem, the diary entry that had sparked it lay on the page.

28th January

He hates me! How could I have been so bloody stupid? It was never have going to have worked between us. What kills me most is that I have lost a best friend, the person I could confide in and he hates me.

I get angry so easily because I assume people think the way I do. Of course they don't, I am insane , and I have ruined not only my own life, but the life of someone I value far more than all the things in this wide open universe.

Ianto, my precious Ianto, misinterpreted what I said and is now under the impression that I don't care for him and that he is a burden to me.

And we had an argument. Via text. At one O'clock in the morning.

I have realised something.

Ianto, whether I like it or not, is not the right person for me. I Love him more than I can say but I were to have a relationship with someone, I would need to know that they would trust me and accept that what I tell them is true.

Ianto doesn't do that. He simply cannot believe that he is worth it. He does not believe that I Love him. He cannot believe that he has more friends and people looking out for him than I ever will. He cannot accept anything contrary to his belief that he is nothing and it kills me. But I do not give up on him – he doesn't believe that either.

As soon as he remembers how much how much he is worth and how valuable he is to everyone, he will recover. I try and help, I really do but I have to accept, maybe I'm not the right person. Perhaps if Lisa were here, things would be different.

I was so distraught that he had lost hope in me I did not realise entirely what I was doing. I ended up, crying my eyes out (again) slumped on the floor outside Tosh's flat. She is so wonderful, she just let me in and allowed me to cry on her shoulder for a while. She never pressed me to tell her anything. I'm so grateful I have her, and Ianto. Poor messed up Ianto. I hope he gets better – he deserves a wonderful, happy life. I just hope he realises it soon.

After he had written that, Jack had been back on the 'no sleep' thing. Why should he if he was such a horrible person? So what if he was tired, it was what he deserved.

The next day, Jack and Ianto only saw each other in passing. Jack was out hunting weevils and new artefacts most of the day and Ianto was hidden down in the archives with Owen, doing a joint research project on… goodness only knows what. Ianto and Owen had grown incredibly close over the last few weeks and Jack was glad that Ianto had someone to talk to and relax with. Several people had commented on it, PC Andy especially, he was such a gossip. He thought that something might be going on between the two despite the fact that Jack denied it. Andy had also noticed that Jack and Ianto were hardly speaking any more. He kept asking what was wrong and if Jack wanted to talk – he didn't.

When everyone had left for the day and Jack finally had a moment to himself, he sat at his desk and sent a copy of his diary to Ianto, which was becoming habit. Then he sat back and read through the pages.

And here he was. The end of the diary. But Jack knew that this story would never truly end, it would keep on coming and he swore he would keep up the diary, whatever happened in the future.

A/N - Sooo, what did you think? I think i'm going to write more but i'm not sure so we'll see how it goes! Please review.