unraveling stories

hi, i'm rov. the penless poet behind all my poetries. i'm a writer, a poet, and a gatherer of fleeting thoughts. i mostly live in the daydreams of metaphors, in between the flipping pages, and inside my midnight musings.

this blog is where i scribble the thoughts that speak to me, whether they are reflections taken from the novels i read, films i watched, or just fleeting moments that gave me thoughts to ponder that linger in my chest long after they happen.

currently, i'm writing a novel, and hopefully, i won't get lost somewhere in the abyss of editing hahaha.

for the curious wanderer, my untamed penless poetries rest on my instagram which you can click the link on my bio.

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will." Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë.

reading jane eyre felt less like turning pages and more like witnessing a long, winding journey of the human spirit. i cannot exaggerate: it has quietly claimed a place among my favorite books.

what strikes me most about jane is her mind. sharp, opinionated, and unapologetically honest, she refuses to shrink herself in a world determined to remind her of her lowly status. jane is not a people-pleaser (love that for her); she values truth more than approval. 

perhaps that is why mr. rochester finds her compelling—not just her heart, but her intellect, her unyielding sense of self. their connection blooms first in thought, in understanding, before ever touching the tender threads of romance.

her childhood was utterly cruel—mrs. reed and her cousins left scars that could have hardened her—but instead, they shaped her. jane emerges with a deep understanding of injustice, a steadfast grasp of dignity and self-respect. the hardships did not break her; they refined her, molding her into someone recognizable yet extraordinary, relatable across every generation of readers.

i admire her independence above all. even in love, she refuses to compromise her moral convictions. leaving mr. rochester was heartbreak and it made heartbreak tangible, yet it is also a triumph of integrity. because love, for jane, is never enough if it demands the surrender of conscience. and i agree, what is love when you're losing your autonomy, right? that's co-dependency...

furthermore, the contrasts the novel presents deepen its power. rochester grows through his flaws; st. john rivers demands obedience (that i find controlling, at some point, maybe because he was using the ways of God to marry jane. he was demanding jane to submit to him, forcefully. which i believe submission from a woman does not require force, it is freely given, once it is earned.) love and faith, the story suggests, can either nurture the spirit or attempt to dominate it. and through it all, charlotte brontë reminds us that true belief is not in authority or rigid piety, but in humility, in character, in transformation.

jane eyre is larger than romance. it is about social class, morality, the subtle and complicated ways faith and love intersect. but above all, it is about staying true to oneself. jane’s greatest triumph is not finding love—it is never losing herself along the way.

now, understanding why jane eyre is jane eyre, i see it now with much clarity: what was meant to break her, made her. not into someone unrecognizable, but into someone enduring, someone whose story resonates with each reader, in every age. and given that this was written in the 1800s, i can only marvel at the courage and vision that brought her to life.

the past few weeks, i prayed and asked God how do i fully trust You, Lord? what does trust look like? can You teach me how?i kept on asking Him those questions over and over.

i opened my bible and He led me to Joshua 1:9

"Have I not commanded You? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9 (NIV)

it was a beautiful answer, but honestly, something in me still felt unanswered. i understood the words, but i longed to see what trust looks like in action.

then, on another night, while i was writing on my laptop, i suddenly felt haru — my puppy — nibbling at my toes under the table. it was as if he was trying to get my attention. since i had run out of ideas anyway, i decided to take a short break. i sat at the edge of my bed, stretched my feet toward the chair in front of me, and placed haru on that chair so he could cross through my legs.

at first, he barked at me, but i gently asked him, do you trust me? even though i knew he couldn’t understand my words. i kept on telling him softly, to trust me, okay? he barked again, still trembling, but then he started to move forward — slowly, carefully — through my legs.

when he reached the middle, around my knees, he almost fell. instinctively, i placed my hands beneath my legs, ready to catch him. haru steadied himself, kept going, his eyes fixed on me, sniffling my legs while i looked at him encouraging him to keep going. until, he finally reached me. i hugged him tightly as his little tail wagged like crazy. i patted his head and told him how proud i was of him for trusting me.

and in that simple moment, i realized God had answered my prayer. He was showing me what trust looks like through haru — my dog, my child.

trusting God doesn’t always look bold or fearless. sometimes, it looks like a trembling faith — taking small and shaky steps forward even when you don’t see the whole plan. because faith and trust are not feelings — they are choices. and even when you fall, even if you can’t see His hands, God is always there — ready to catch you.

personally, i love that He also showed me this — trust can look like fear. it can look like questions. but the fact that you choose to stay, to follow Him anyway — that’s trust. even the small acts of faith matter. each step you take, no matter how little, Jesus celebrates it, as if it were the biggest victory of your life. you may still be far from the dream He has planned for you, but He’s already rejoicing over you.

and most of all, through this — His loving way of answering me, i fell in love with Him even more. because He used my mother heartfor haru to reveal His Father heart toward me — to teach me — to answer me. it was so pure, so intimate, so personal — it felt sacred even.

it’s a gentle reminder that He does not only teaches us about trust, but lovingly shows us, in ways we can understand.

i thought it was a normal saturday night — but it wasn’t.

i was in the mood to rewatch one of my favorite classic romance movies — a walk to remember. the movie hasn’t changed — it still didn’t change how it made me feel — it still made me long to have a love like theirs.

but on the scene where jamie told landon that he was sick. a picture of my younger self appeared in my mind.

(photo from pinterest.)

years ago…

i was in an ocean of grief, depression, and dark thoughts. i was in the deepest part of the ocean. i was desperate for someone to hear my cries and silent screams that were eventually washed away by the waves of shame. i needed someone’s hand to pull me out of the depths, but i received none.

i found myself pleading in prayer — begging to stop breathing, to have my life taken away. at one point, i even prayed and dreamed of having an incurable disease, imagining myself rescued from the ocean but lifeless. it was all i could think of.

while watching, i talked to Him in my mind. it was like He was making me remember what i used to pray, but He didn’t make me feel that He was against me for praying that. instead, He gave me another chance to change my prayer. and i did. i changed it. i prayed to forget that old prayer. to be healed from it. because it came from a place of pain. and i was not in my right mind at that time.

i was deeply regretful. it felt scary. but when i was done talking to Him — a sense of peace came into my heart.

i thought it was just because i missed watching the classic romance movie. i thought it was a normal saturday night — but it wasn’t. He used the movie to walk with me into a night of remembering one scary prayer. 

He made me walk back to my dying night, to who i was, and He redeemed me from that prayer through another prayer.

He gave me another chance to take that prayer back. He pulled me away from that possible reality without holding it against me. i didn’t remember the prayer anymore, but He did. He keeps every prayer of mine, even the one spoken from sorrow.

what was He teaching me? He was teaching me to release some of my prayers, even if it means He has to protect me from myself.

the movie became more remarkable for me, especially the title itself. i know the book/movie was not written for me, but in this moment, it felt like it was. because He made me walk through a place of old prayers that could have harmed me.

they used to celebrate each other’s success, small or big, even with the little money they had. not because they wanted to show off, but because they didn’t get to have those during their time. even with their busy schedules and the distance, they made time for each other. they were a group of misfits, imperfect and different. yet, they were happy just the way they were. they enjoyed the company of each other. they became a family.

until some time ago, when the imperfections of each other became a social shame, it became a problem — their differences were stained as they tried to be more different but acceptable. to be more loved and wanted, yet unreasonable. the blame became chaotic, but they managed to stay more connected despite all their silent in spite of's.

the oldest, who became their mother, went ill. little did they know their muted insults were slowly killing her. until life left her. they wept, mourned, and grieved.

when she died, they thought they wouldn’t. despite her cold body in the tomb, they tried. they tried to fix their problems, but never themselves. years went by, their house of memories burned — not with fire, but with resentments provoked by decisions that weren’t agreed upon by everyone. they watched the house burn, thinking they could buy another and start again, as a family. and in the silence of their hopes, they knew no one would look for another house. and that alone, no one dared to move — to move forward. 

what they did not know, it would be the last time they forgave each other. the last time they spoke to each other.

(photo from pinterest.)

today, i called her ghost despite knowing she died years ago. as i stared at her tomb, the people i used to come with — we avoid each other now. and the thread that kept us connected had burned along with the house. because when she died, the reason to keep the blood flowing bled on its own, until it died.

i stared at her name and bid her goodbye. we no longer grieve for her death; rather, we grieve for the family that died with her.

in an era of isolation, i read a book somewhere, where the girl prayed for growth: to depend on Him more than on people, to heal, and to reveal those who were deceitful behind her back. everything went haywire. and forced her to hold on to God.

in those days, she’d go to the beach alone and watch the sunset, silently praying for an end — to the pain, grief, confusion, questions, doubts, and even her existence. it was chaotic inside. but, she remembered what she had prayed for. despite her resentful heart, she clung to Him. she became transparent with Him in a way she hadn’t with anyone else. she tried reconnecting with her old friends, but the connection was gone, and forcing it only made things worse.

things weren’t the same anymore. in the darkness and through endless tears, she returned to her first love — writing, which she once turned her back on because she didn’t think it was meant for her. she began writing poems and prose again, and her love for reading was reignited. these things helped saved her from unwanted thoughts.

in her time, the world was almost healing, she met her new friends, with whom she can finally share genuine laughters and comforts during life’s stressful moments. being with them feels like being a kid again. it was comforting to be silly with them and to share her doubts, regrets, and stresses. life became so much easier, and in her aloneness, it has never been boring. it was peaceful.

while flipping the pages of her old journal, she realized, there was a dream she’d buried deep within herself. it was a dream she’d long forgotten because it felt too impossible to reach. then, one summer, she found herself rewriting her novel with a new goal in mind: to publish it.

looking back, she realized that she lost people, but she lost parts of herself, too. she searched everywhere to find herself, then stumbled upon the beauty of sunset. that’s when she realized, it was never just a sunset. 

it was Him, all along, waiting and reaching for her, always patient. she thought that she hadn’t been alone in this journey. He was with her, sitting by her side, listening and quietly fulfilling the desires of her heart, so long as they wouldn’t harm her.

and in my attempt to capture the sunset’s beauty, knowing that everything eventually ends, i realized, upon reading her story, that even if the ending might bring tears, it would be beautiful, and i wouldn’t stay there forever.

she haven’t met the man that God will allow to spend the rest of her life with, yet she’ve found friends she can sincerely call her own. 

she’s still far from publishing her novel, but she’ll get to see her name on a published book, someday. her future remains uncertain, yet she’ve never felt so calm, at peace, and sure — even without knowing what’s about to come.

(photo from pinterest.)

sunset gave me that. sunset gave me hope and certainty. sunset brought me back. and whatever you’re going through, it can bring you back, too.