The Ephemerality of my Adolescence

My life, just barely beginning, feels as though it is quickly reaching its end. It is slipping through my fingers like sand in an hourglass, each grain representing a fleeting moment wasted as I remain inhibited by my fears.
I understand that we all run at different paces--it's not a race--but I am struggling to keep up with everyone else around me.
I find myself growing more and more impatient every day, becoming entranced and ensnared in day dreams, held captive by the idea of redamancy--such an unobtainable goal that it's almost comedic.
As a child, the idea of "true love" is engrained in our subconscious through fairy tales and movies.
Growing up, we come to realize that the reality of love is that it is nothing but a bunch of chemical reactions we have absolutely no control over. And so true love is messy and disappointing, full of unrequited feelings and sociopathic tendencies--it's a god damn mine field.
I understand that not everyone dates at my age. The chances of finding "the one" at 17 years old is one in a million; although there are exceptions, teenage romance does not prevail.
However, it would be nice to at least feel appreciated or loved every once in a while. To be held or kissed or feel like my company is worth more than a few awkward passes and an order of dry french fries.
I would love to be loved, and I would love to love.