Perfection.

As a kid, whenever I got a new box of crayons, no matter what size, I would never use the Scarlet crayon. It was, and still is, my favorite. All the other crayons would slowly deteriorate around it, and it would stand there, unharmed and perfect. Then someone would come along and use it, despite my protests.  I would be sad because it was ruined, but also happy, because then I could use it, too.