Do you remember a time when you actually believed the people you befriended during your first semester would be your best friends for life? For this semester's freshmen, that time isn't so long ago.

We came to college thinking this would be the time when we all would become adults and learn to settle disputes in our relationships maturely and respectfully.

My fellow freshmen and I have come to the grim realization that just because we're older doesn't mean we're above messy, childish disputes.

On the contrary, the second semester has seen those dumber than dumb arguments flourish, and effectively end friendships.

At the beginning of this semester I noticed a disturbing trend in my dorm hall. Sets of friends who could hardly survive Christmas break apart now walked down opposite sides of the hall just to avoid each other.

Among my own friends a huge rift split the hallway into two sides and left me stranded somewhere in the middle. A few nights ago, I decided to try and bridge the gap that had risen within our group. My friends and I on one side of the hall cracked open a box of chocolate-covered double-stuff cookies and tried to figure out what had happened.

"It was all lies," Chris said bitterly. "We thought our friendship was so much stronger than it was."

"But what happened?" I insisted. Maybe it was something we ate. Perhaps we all got hold of a of some bad weiner wings.

"It's all different now," said Andrea. "At the beginning of the year you're desperate to make friends. You want to like people and you overlook any faults they might have."

I went across the hallway to talk with my other friends, Ellen, Michelle and Jen. "In the beginning, we all identified with each other. We were all going through the same things," Ellen said. "It was fun too. I liked it when we used to do everything together as a big group."

Michelle added, "Sunday brunch was always the best. We all used to sit in the dining hall looking like death warmed over, trying to tell each other what we did the night before. The funny part was, we could hardly remember what it was."

Jen said, "I think that the problem is that after the initial shock of a new environment, you reassert your true personality -- which may end up clashing with those around you."

Back across the hall, Andrea said it was difficult to hold onto the closeness we all felt at the beginning of the year. "After we had our first really bad argument, we started to only see the bad things about (each other). There was really a definite change in the way we all got along."

"I think," added Rachel, "that we just got too close. We all hung out together so much, we just couldn't stand each other after awhile."

But I couldn't let the issue alone. I lamely tried to suggest that there was still a chance for us all to reconcile our differences and be chummy again.

"Why should we?" exclaimed Chris. "It wasn't the best friendship of my life and now it's over. Anyway, after this year ends, we probably won't see them anymore. We're not living here for ever you know. Be realistic."

But realism is far too depressing. Maybe it is too late for my friends to regain the warm fuzzy feeling of happy-camper camaraderie we all felt when the year started.

We have different perceptions of each other and we are less willing to forgive faults we could have overlooked five months ago. We are more self-confident now and aren't satisfied with clinging to friendships that don't live up to our expectations.

I still can't help hoping that I can hold on to the people I've grown so close to. As a group we all weathered the very worst our freshman year had to dish out, from dealing with homesickness to calculus exams.

We all have had enough in common to stay together this long. I think despite our differences, we should remember it was that very diversity that made our friendships so special. Our confusion and insecurity was the glue which held us together -- I hope that our returned self-confidence won't drive us apart.